Super J Cup
by Psychoblue
Summary: Tommy Dreamer, Booker T, Chris Masters, Black Tiger, El Mesias, BxB Hulk, Nigel McGuinness, Tajiri: eight men compete, but only one can be called the winner of the Super J Cup!
1. Prologue

"Fifty-eight…fifty-nine…sixty…"

The sound of a man counting the push-ups he had completed was but one of the many audible noises that were being made in a small gym located in downtown Tokyo. It was here where men and women of all shapes and sizes came to improve their mind and body by performing various exercises that would condition them for whatever endeavor that awaited them. The gym had mats for stretching exercises, treadmills for running exercises, weight machines for muscle exercises, and a court was located nearby to allow the patrons to test their mettle against their friends and rivals in whatever sport they could manage there.

While this gym was not entirely unlike dozens of other gyms that were located across the city, there was one thing that made it particularly noteworthy…

…and that was the fact that the man who had been counting to himself was the fabled Tommy Dreamer.

A muscular man of medium height, Tommy Dreamer was a professional wrestler best known for his time in Extreme Championship Wrestling, where he earned a degree of fame as the innovator of violence and helped change the way the general populace looked at the sport. As a master of hardcore matches, Tommy had earned the respect of nearly everyone in the industry thanks to his ability to take punishment and dish it out in greater amount, and his undying courage and tenacity he showed in the ring no matter how daunting the opponent would be.

Giants, psychopaths, athletes, and strongmen: Dreamer had faced them all, and never backed down from any of them. Even though he would not always win, his soul would remain as powerful and as immortal as the sport that he loved, and no one could take that away from him…and his quest to become the ECW Champion: an honor he held for less than an hour.

Even though ECW only existed as a branch of the massive wrestling organization World Wrestling Entertainment, Tommy's love for the brand remained strong, as did his lust for the title. Every time he was knocked out of title contention, Tommy would pick himself back up and fight his way back towards the title, hoping that someday…somehow…he would become the champion again. However, he would be unable to do that in Tokyo.

As he completed his one-hundredth push-up, Tommy stood back up and wiped the sweat from his brow. In this far-away land where professional wrestling sometimes made street brawls look like pillow fights, the man from Yonkers, New York had been sent by WWE as their representative for an event that was unlike any other: the Super J Cup, where wrestling promotions from all across the world put aside their differences to compete for the honor to be lionized as the best of the best.

--

_One week ago…_

"Come in."

Turning around to face whoever was walking into his office, the general manager of ECW smiled as Tommy Dreamer closed the door behind him and approached the bespectacled African-American. "Tommy, it's good to see you, player. Thank you for coming."

"It's always a pleasure, Teddy," Tommy said with a nod of his head. "What did you need me for?"

"Well, you see, Tommy, the board of directors asked me to give this to you," Teddy Long turned his head to the left and nodded to his blonde assistant Tiffany, who stood off of the couch and handed Teddy an envelope. Once it was in his hand, Teddy handed the enveloped to Tommy and watched him open it.

"This…isn't a notice of my release, is it?" Tommy asked just before he completely opened the envelope, his left eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Teddy erupted into a hearty laughter. "Hohoho, no…it's nothing like that, Tommy. If it was something like that, I certainly would have enough decency to tell you in person." Once the envelope was fully opened, Tommy pulled out a plane ticket and a piece of paper. Inspecting the paper first, Tommy quietly muttered to himself as he skimmed the letter. His eyes widened in surprise, and Teddy's smile widened along with it. "So, player…what do you think?"

"This is an invitation to the Super J Cup," Tommy whispered before lifting his head and looking to Teddy. "Teddy, I don't know if I can accept this: is this some kind of practical joke?"

"Not at all, player," Teddy assured his hard-working employee. "The board of directors asked the general managers of all three brands to nominate one wrestler to accept the invitation: I picked you, the heart and soul of ECW, to represent the company in this event…and it looks like the board agreed with me."

"So you mean to tell me that I got picked over guys like Randy Orton, Shawn Michaels, Edge, and MVP? I find that hard to believe…after all, Vince thinks that I'm a 'never has-been.'" Tommy said with a scoff, not entirely sold on the idea that the board of directors would rely on someone who once tried to dismantle the WWE during the ECW invasion.

"Be that as it may, the WWE would like you to represent us in the Super J Cup: it would also be a great opportunity to scout talent overseas for my new superstar initiative." Teddy outstretched his hand in friendship and awaited Tommy's answer. "What's it going to be, player: do you still have enough soul left to show that ECW hasn't gone to pasture just yet?"

Tommy's eyes lit up upon hearing that question. "Teddy, if there's one thing that I will never run low on, it's soul." Shaking Teddy's hand vigorously, a look of intensity flashed upon Tommy's bearded face. "All right: I'd be honored to compete in the tournament. Tell the locker room that as soon as I get back, though, they better watch out because I'll be going right back to earning a shot at the title!"

--

As Tommy finished reminiscing about he managed to find his way to the land of the rising sun and leaving "bigger" stars like Triple H and John Cena in the dust, he took one last gulp of his water bottle and reached for his gym bag before walking out of the gym and into the busy urban jungle that was Tokyo. He had spent a good three hours doing nothing but conditioning his body: it was time to head back to the hotel he was staying at.

Calling for a taxi, Tommy watched as the cab pulled up next to him. Entering the vehicle and hoping that the driver spoke English, Tommy gave the address of his destination. The cab driver nodded, and within fifteen minutes he arrived at his hotel. Tommy tipped the driver graciously before stepping out of the cab and walking into the hotel.

As soon as he did so, however, he noticed two familiar figures standing at the receptionist's desk: a well-built dark-skinned man with long dreadlocks, and a woman of similar skin color with long dark hair. He didn't need more than a second to identify them: Booker T and his wife Sharmell, former WWE employees and now a part of rival company Total Nonstop Action.

Tommy and Booker had met each before: they were once part of the same alliance that threatened to destroy the WWE, hoping to avenge the deaths of WCW and ECW. While Tommy drifted off into the land of Sunday Night Heat, however, Booker maintained his mega-star status and won WWE's World Heavyweight Championship, the King of the Ring Tournament, and a slew of other belts that belonged to the company.

However, this tournament was not supposed to be about brand supremacy: it was an invitational event made to showcase the skills of each company and prove beneficial to everyone involved: TNA or not, Booker was chosen to participate just like Tommy, and needless ill will was not was Tommy desired…at least not until it was time to get into the ring.

Approaching Booker and Sharmell with a smile, Tommy greeted the couple and outstretched his hand. "It's good to see you again, Booker…"

Booker turned his head but did not return the smile Tommy gave him. Inspecting Tommy with a quick shake of his head, Booker's eyes widened in surprise. "What in the hell are you doing here? What is a WWE lapdog doing here in Japan, when the Super J Cup is just a couple of days away?"

"I was invited here," Tommy said as he reached into his pocket to pull out the envelope that Teddy Long had given him. "I'm going to be competing in the tournament, the same as you are."

Booker was silent for a few months, and then let out a boisterous laugh that was so great that a tear fell from his cheek. "Oh, Tommy, I'm glad to see that being the doormat of WWE hasn't ruined your sense of humor. You, competing in something as extravagant as this? That's real nice, dog! BWAHAHAHA!"

"It's not a joke, Booker," Tommy replied, fighting the urge to slap the laughing man in the face for mocking him. "I'm not doing this for WWE, though: I'm doing this because this is a great honor and I intend to make the best of the situation that I'm in."

"Unbelievable: you being here just shows how little WWE cares about this business," Booker said once he regained control of himself. "See, my company sees the greatness in me, so they picked me over those rogues Angle, Styles, and Samoa Joe. After all, I'm a six-time…six-time, six-time, six-"

"You don't have to say it six times, Booker: I'm well aware of your accomplishments," Tommy rolled his eyes as he interrupted Booker's usual schpiel about how many world heavyweight championships he had accumulated in his career. "I'm a former world champion, too…"

"I would hardly consider that ECW belt a world title, and you only had it for a half-hour," Booker scoffed. "Why don't you go back to your silly little brand and let the real athletes do what they do best, and let has-beens like you go to pasture…" Turning away to head to his room, Booker waved to his faithful wife Sharmell and the two of them left Tommy's presence. "However, we shall see how much fight you have left in you when it comes time for the bell…"

While he didn't envy what was going to happen to Booker as soon as he stepped into the ring with him, Tommy did envy the fact that Booker had his wife with him. Tommy's wife Beulah, as well as their two daughters, was back in the United States. Tommy had wanted to bring her with him, but there was only one plane ticket, and he did not want to burden his lovely wife with the expenses of such a pricey trip, or cut into the shows that Beulah had already accepting bookings for. "I'll be sure to bring home tapes, honey, as well as souvenirs," Tommy had assured Beulah at the airport. "Tell the girls I love them very much and I'll bring them home something good!"

Putting aside his thoughts of longing for the time being, Tommy walked over the elevator and waited for the doors to open. He would have plenty of time to think about his family after he had a quick nap…


	2. Chris Masters vs Black Tiger

The Budokan Hall was built in 1964, an imposing octagonal structure standing at nearly fifty meters tall and holding over fourteen-thousand people, and for most foreigners it is usually synonymous with big-scale music concerts. It was here that the Beatles made their Japan debut, and many other popular international artists followed their lead to create several albums that would be recorded "live at the Budokan." The names of bands that performed at this venerable hall include Ozzy Osbourne, Bob Dylan, Dream Theater, and Metallica.

However, music concerts were not what the designers had in mind when they first built the hall: its original intention was for judo competitions that would be held during the 1964 Summer Olympics. Once the Olympics were over, several other disciplines gathered at the arena to hold tournaments of all kinds in order to test the mettle of the fighters who participated.

On a cool Sunday evening, with the fans from all over the world watching either in the sold-out seats or via satellite, this Budokan Hall would once again become a place of combat. This was the venue for the Super J Cup, where eight men from all across the war would pit their strength and wits against one another to be crowned the champion…and it was time for the first match to begin.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, thank you for coming this evening," a thin man in a tuxedo singled out by a single spotlight greeted everyone who was bearing witness to the event as he stood in the center of the four-sided wrestling ring that would be the site of carnage and violence. "It is now time for the Super J Cup: eight men will compete in a series of matches, where the winner of each match will advance to the next round until there is only one man left standing…and that man will be crowned the winner of the tournament!"

An instant later, the spotlight moved away from the announcer to leave him in the dark, and gave way to the large screen that was situated above the entrance ramp. The distinct sound of electric guitars blared throughout the arena as the screen lit up to reveal select clips of the first competitor in action, and seconds later the man himself walked out into the open and posed for the crowd.

_You want it all  
But you can't have it…  
_  
Flexing his impressive muscles while sparks rained down from the sparkler situated just above him, the bronze-skinned man flashed a confident smile as the crowd watched him in awe and wonder.

_It's in your face  
But you can't grab it…  
_  
Showing off his muscles one last time as the rain of sparks finally died down, the muscle-bound man dressed in dark blue wrestling trunks with matching boots marched down the entrance ramp and continued to smile for the crowd. Once he reached the ring, he posed one last time for the crowd before climbing up the steps and jumping over the ropes with a single bound.

The smiling man ran his fingers through his brown hair once before turning to the entrance ramp and waited for his opponent to make himself known. As per the tournament rules, the competitors would not know who they would face in the first round of the tournament, and the man paced the ring eagerly as he anticipated the thought of him emerging victorious against whoever would come down that ramp.

As the lights dimmed once again, the screen revealed a new image: the logo of a black-furred tiger and a ferocious roar accompanying it. Almost immediately after the roar, a rapid succession of guitar riffs echoed throughout Budokan Hall as the second competitor of the Super J Cup revealed himself: a Caucasian man of medium build wearing a black-and-white tiger-striped singlet, and a matching black tiger mask covering the top part of his face.

Unlike the confident smile that the first man had worn, the second man was all business: he walked to the ring devoid of any sort of emotion save for an intensity that could be felt by whoever was close enough to see his serious frown. Rolling beneath the ropes as he came to the ring, the man quickly stood back up and stared at the man for a few seconds before retreating to his respective corner. Whoever the man was, he clearly was not in the mood for anything that didn't involve wrestling.

The ring lit up once again as the announcer raised his microphone and resumed speaking. "Standing to my left, is the representative for New Japan Pro Wrestling. From Los Angeles, California, standing at 1.96 meters and weighing in at 120 kilograms, he is the Masterpiece…CHRIS MASTERS!"

Flexing his muscles once again, Chris smiled as the crowd let out a loud cheer. Once touted as the future of WWE before being disgraced by successive drug-related suspensions, the bronze-skinned Masters had resurrected his career in the land of the rising sun and had become well-liked by its people, as opposed to how he was booed and jeered in the United States. Being around his fans gave him plenty of reason to smile, which was more that could be said for his mysterious opponent.

"And his opponent, standing at 1.88 meters and weighing in at 110 kilograms…BLACK TIGER!"

Chris' smile dwindled as he heard the name of his opponent. The Black Tiger was not the name of a single wrestler, but several different individuals who took up the mask. There had been four Black Tigers up to that point, but Chris had no idea who the one standing before him happened to be: he had watched tapes of all the previous Tigers, and this fifth Black Tiger did not have any of the features of his predecessors.

**Quarterfinal Match 1: Chris Masters (NJPW) vs Black Tiger (N/A)**

As the announcer slipped out of the ring and the referee slid in, Chris tossed aside his doubts and outstretched his hand. In the past, this was a deceptive trap he would use to dishonorably grab hold onto his opponent to put them into one of his several submission holds. However, he was a changed man, and it was now a sign of respect to his opponent who had climbed up the ranks just as he had.

However, Black Tiger slapped it away and his lips curled into a snarl. "What the hell's your problem," Chris suddenly shouted as he prepared to attack the disrespectful masked man. "I'm trying to play nice, and you're acting like a prick! These fans deserve better!"

However, the referee held the two men back: until the bell rang, they were forbidden to engage in fisticuffs, and neither man wished to be disqualified from the prestigious tournament. The referee slowly explained the rules of the match to them: there would be no time limit, and a winner would be decided either via pinfall, submission, count-out, knockout, or disqualification. The two men nodded their heads upon hearing the rules, but throughout the entire explanation their eyes remained fixated on their opponent.

As soon as the referee removed himself as the only obstacle keeping the two men from engaging each other and signaled for the bell, Chris let out a fearsome shout and grabbed onto the slightly-smaller man's shoulders, hoping to overpower this new Black Tiger. However, the masked wrestler returned the favor and grabbed onto Chris's shoulders, and the two men became deadlocked in a test of strength.

Running forward, Chris pushed Black Tiger back into his corner, where the referee once again got between them and pushed them apart from each other. Just before they were separated completely, however, Black Tiger lashed out at Chris and struck him in the face with a disrespectful slap.

Taking a deep breath so as not to lose his cool and give his opponent a psychological advantage, the man known as the Masterpiece pointed to the crowd that had begun to chant his name. "See these people?" he shouted as the referee moved out of the way and Black Tiger left the corner he had been forced into. "These people are my people: there's no way I'm going to lose in front of them!"

The two combatants once again latched onto each other and tried to get leverage over the other. After a few seconds of struggling, Black Tiger's foot shot up and kicked Masters in the stomach, forcing him to buckle over in pain and release his hold. Now on the attack, Black Tiger grabbed onto Chris's neck and flung him to the mat with a quick snapmare and applied a headlock to keep him at a disadvantage.

Fighting through the headlock using his formidable strength, Masters stood back up and rammed his elbow into Black Tiger's stomach and hoped it would be enough for him to relinquish his hold on his head and neck. For most men, it would take several elbow shots such as those for their opponent to break their headlock, but Masters was not most men: one shot was all it took for Black Tiger to let go of him and clutch his stomach in pain.

Seeing an opportunity to end the match early, Chris placed Black Tiger in a headlock of his own, but the masked grappler was slippery enough to escape before he could clinch it in completely. Before Chris could think of what else to do, Black Tiger's foot shot into action once again and struck the strongman in the shin with a stiff kick that could be heard even in the audience several feet away.

However, Masters' endurance was second to none: he shrugged off the kick and countered with an echoing knife-edged chop that made contact with Black Tiger's pectoral muscle. Stunned from such a maneuver, Black Tiger let out a shout of pain as he turned around and left himself open to a German Suplex that planted him head-first into the mat. Keeping the masked wrestler in place so that his shoulders were on the mat, Masters attempted a bridging pin as the referee fell on his belly and began the three-count.

Before he could even get a one-count, Black Tiger kicked out of the hold and rolled back to his feet. Before Masters could fully stand, the Black Tiger struck him in the face with a powerful knee lift that stunned the bigger man long enough for the masked wrestler to place him in a butterfly lock. Bending over backwards, the Black Tiger send Masters crashing onto his back using a butterfly suplex. Rather than bridge for a pin, however, Black Tiger rolled with the momentum he had created and mounted the prone Chris.

Lifting his arm into the air, Black Tiger applied his closed fist to Masters' nose and punched him repeatedly. The referee scolded the masked wrestler as he vented out his frustrations on the big man's face, and gave him to the count of five to either pin the man or get off of him. Just as the five-count warning was about to expire, Black Tiger hooked Chris' legs and attempted a pin.

An instant after the referee counted to one, Masters got his shoulders up and grabbed onto Black Tiger's neck. With a look of fury in his eyes, Chris stood back up and rammed his head into the masked man's skull with such force that he was sent stumbling backwards into the ropes. Masters let out a ferocious shout as he ran at the masked wrestler at full force and collided into him with a charging clothesline immediately followed by a DDT that drove Black Tiger's head into the mat.

Undeterred by such a maneuver, Black Tiger used the momentum his gained by falling down to roll forward and bridge his body so that he was pinning Masters to the mat. However, Masters got out of that predicament by performing an impressive bridge of his own and lifting himself off the mat. Standing back up so that the two combatants had their backs pressed to each other, Chris and Black Tiger let go of each other and quickly turned around.

"Come on," Masters goaded his foe on as he once again pointed to the crowd. "I know you've got more than just that, and these people do too!" Complying with his opponent's taunt, Black Tiger attempted to send Chris into unconsciousness with a swift superkick, but Masters ducked under the attack and lifted the masked wrestler high above his head: holding him high up in the air for the crowd to see as he performed military presses with him.

After the sixth repetition, Chris launched Black Tiger into the air like a basketball only to catch him in a backbreaker rack position and sit down on the mat to drive his opponent's spine into his chiseled shoulders. Not quite done with his maneuver, Chris stood back up with Black Tiger still in a rack position, and then altered his hold on him to drive the back of the masked wrestler's head into the mat with a modified neckbreaker.

Letting go of his opponent so he could get a pin, Chris' smile returned as he felt victory closing in. The smile quickly faded, however, as Black Tiger sat back up before Chris could pin him. Quickly returning to his feet, Black Tiger spin around and bashed Masters in the face once again with a spinning backhanded punch, immediately following that strike with a quick overhead belly-to-belly suplex that was executed with such power and velocity that Masters was flung right into the ropes.

With Chris ricocheting off the ropes like a pinball, the strongman fell stomach-first into his opponent's knees and let out a shout of pain as a result. Black Tiger stood back up and watched Masters writhe on the ground, giving him a cold glare before stomping on his back repeatedly and maliciously. After the seventh stomp, Black Tiger grabbed onto Chris' arm and forced him back onto his feet with a hammerlock, applying pressure to the strongman's shoulder and eliciting a groan of pain.

Not in the mood for anything fancy, Chris' free elbow struck his opponent with devastating force, bloodying his nose and forcing him to relinquish the hammerlock. Finally seeing an opportunity to gain an advantage, Chris clasped his hands together and swung them at Black Tiger's face, knocking him down as if he had been hit by a tree branch. With his "Polish Hammer" fully formed, Masters ducked down and brought his hammer down on the downed wrestler's chest, eliciting a shout of pain that boosted the strongman's confidence.

Rather than rob the crowd he adored so much of what was turning out to be a good match, Masters lifted Black Tiger off of the ground and drove his spine into his knee with a pendulum backbreaker. Instead of letting his opponent fall back down to the mat, however, Chris kept Black Tiger on his knee, bending him like a piece of taffy in a submission attempt.

"You should feel proud that you've come this far, buddy," Masters assured his foe as the referee knelt down next to them and asked whether or not he wanted to quit in the wake of the the submission maneuver. "I'll tell everyone who asks that you gave it your all, and whoever your next opponent is will be in for one hell of a time!"

Rather than give up and leave the tournament, however, Black Tiger's hands raked across Chris' eyes in an underhanded attempt to break the hold. Gripping his face in pain and letting out a roar of agony, Chris let go of Black Tiger and left himself open to the masked wrestler's retaliatory knife-edged chop that was delivered with such ferocity and power that the sound of it striking Masters' flesh could be heard all across the arena. The chop was immediately followed by a second chop, and a third and a fourth until Masters fell to his knees groaning in agony.

Running past his opponent so he could inflict even more pain on him later, Black Tiger climbed up the nearest turnbuckle until he was standing above the ring and facing the crowd. Slowly running his finger across his neck to show what fate was in store for Masters, Black Tiger took flight and performed an impressive mid-air moonsault, hoping to flatten Chris using his rotational velocity.

Recovering just in time to see Black Tiger in flight, Masters used all of his strength and power to catch the airborne grappler and hold him over his shoulder. Black Tiger struggled and wriggled, but Masters was not willing to let him go…at least, not before he tossed him down and sent the masked wrestler's shoulder crashing into his knee with a shoulder breaker.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, friends," Masters shouted to the crowd as he clasped his fingers together, signaling that it was time to unleash his move famous and devastating maneuver. The audience let out a loud cheer, knowing what was coming next, and Chris voiced his intentions loud enough for everyone to hear. "It's Master Lock time!"

The Master Lock was Chris Masters' brainchild: a full nelson variant that was so difficult to break out of, that he once held contests where he would bet money from his own pocket that no one would be able to compromise it. Only one person had ever successfully powered out of the hold, and he definitely was not the person he saw before him: a smile crept back on Chris' face as victory once again became closer and closer.

Locking his arm around Black Tiger's shoulders and placing him in the hold as soon as the masked wrestler got back on his feet, Masters let out a ferocious yell as he tightened his patented hold while the Black Tiger furiously struggled to break free. Using his impressive strength, Chris swung his captured quarry to and fro like an angry child swinging a rag doll. This was to keep Black Tiger from powering out of the hold, as the swinging increased the pressure.

However, Masters was not foolish enough to rely on the Master Lock entirely, especially after having it broken once before. Bending over backwards at exceptional speed, Chris planted Black Tiger into the mat with a snap dragon suplex. Keeping his hold tight and firm, Chris rolled over with his opponent still in tow and performed a second suplex, much to the delight of the crowd that was reaching fever pitch.

Not only was the Master Lock applying pressure, but the two head drops further added to the damage being done. "It's all over, buddy," he shouted as he stood back up, noticing Black Tiger's struggling beginning to subside. "You did pretty good all things considering, but no one breaks the Master L-AUGH!"

Black Tiger did not need to power out of the hold: his foot shooting backwards right into Chris' groin was enough to force the strongman to release his hold and grip his attacked area in agony. Chris turned to the referee and expected him to call for the bell, but nothing came: it was as if the referee had been paying too much attention to the faded Black Tiger that he did not notice his foot make contact. "Dirty bastard," he said with a hiss. "Can't win fairly, huh!?"

With Chris bent over, Black Tiger once again locked the strongman into a butterfly lock. Rather than suplex him, however, the masked wrestler pulled his upwards and lifted him over his head so that he was in a crucifix position. Chris struggled wildly to break free, but it was not enough to prevent Black Tiger from slamming his neck and shoulders into the mat with a sit-out crucifix power bomb: the Dark Tiger Bomb that was a trademark technique for all Black Tigers.

That should have been enough to win the match, but Black Tiger had something else in mind. Keeping Masters in his grasp, Black Tiger turned the strongman onto his belly and crossed one his legs over the other, standing on the crossed leg to create a type of standing inverted figure-four leg lock. Once that was cinched in, Black Tiger took the free leg and fell flat on his back, lifting Masters into the air like a hanging slab of meat and causing Masters excruciating pain in the lower back and legs.

Masters roared in raw agony as he struggled to break of the unique submission hold: the power bomb that he had received was damaging enough, and he exhausted most of his energy trying to keep the Master Lock in tow. With his hands as the only means of escaping, Masters scratched and crawled towards the nearest ring rope: if he could just reach the bottom rope, the referee would force Black Tiger to relinquish the hold…

However, Black Tiger was not about to let Masters go: lifting his body with a slight sit-up, the masked wrestler used his torso as a hammer and landed on one of the strongman's hand, causing him to scream even more. There was no escape, and he wanted to make that known to this musclehead who dared to think that he could outmaneuver him. After a good forty-five seconds of struggling and hammering, Chris whispered a silent apology to his fans and tapped out, signaling the referee to call for the bell and make his surrender known.

"The winner, as a result of submission at 10:36, BLACK TIGER!"

The masked wrestler quickly released his hold and stood back up so the referee could raise his hand in victory while his music once again blared across the arena. There was neither a smile, nor a frown on the man's exposed mouth: only a serious expression that had been a constant throughout the entire match. Snatching his hand away from the referee, Black Tiger rolled out of the ring and slowly made his way back up the entrance ramp.

"Hold it, hold it!"

Stopping his advance up the ramp, Black Tiger slowly turned around to see that Masters now had a microphone in his hand, though he was still on the mat recuperating from the coup de grace. "Listen, buddy…I'm not going to make excuses: you may not have gotten out of the Master Lock fair and square, but you still got the win and I applaud you for it."

Clapping his hands together until the rest of the crowd followed suit, Masters noticed that he had Black Tiger's attention and continued. "There's only one person I know who can do that move you did that made me tap out, and you do seem awfully familiar," Chris said with a pause before continuing. "However, I'm not going to question why you're wearing that mask: just be sure you don't lose, because I don't want a rematch with a cheating loser!"

Watching Black Tiger turn back around and walk out of the ring, Masters posed one last time for the crowd before putting the microphone down and following the masked wrestler to the back. Even though he didn't last long in the tournament, he could at least rest easy knowing that he made and impact, and in the end, he still had his fans…


	3. Nigel McGuinness vs Tajiri

"Wankers…"

Watching Chris Masters pass him by as he made his way to the entrance ramp, a toned figure wearing black union jack wrestling shorts and matching boots and elbow pads scoffed. He had watched the strongman's match with the mysterious Black Tiger on a high-definition television located in the back, and he was not impressed: he had seen far more technically sound matches in the past, and he had personally been in more intense matches.

Despite this, the crowd chanted Masters' name throughout the entire deal, as if he were their hero. While that would normally mean that the man's ire would be focused on the Californian bodybuilder, the man instead focused his frustrations on the crowd. They clearly had no idea what a true wrestler was capable of, being that they were cheering Masters and not the more technically sound Black Tiger.

"I'll show those wankers," he muttered as he finally reached the entrance ramp and waited for his music to hit. "I'll show them what real greatness is, by annihilating whatever bloody fool steps into the ring with me…"

_You want to break our walls down?_

_You want to destroy?_

_Well, you go to hell!_

With the sounds of Oasis' steady drum beat accompanied by a repeating series of guitar riffs blaring across the Budokan Hall, the man smiled to himself as he stepped out in front of the crowd and posed for them. The pose was not meant to gain their affections, however: it was to show how confident he was for his next bout. Despite this, the fickle bastards still cheered for him as he made his way down the entrance ramp.

Rolling under the ropes before standing back up, the man walked to the nearest turnbuckle and slumped down with his back pressed against it. Ever since he lost the Ring of Honor title, he had been working hard to shut out the sounds of everything that did not involve his opponent screaming in agony, as it was the distraction caused by his opponent's posse that cost him the title in the first place.

If not for the crowd being so in favor of that spastic moron Delirious, Nigel McGuinness would still be a world champion…and he would never forgive his "fans" for turning his back on him and instead siding with that masked, babbling bastard. Even in the land of the rising son, Nigel's grudge knew no bounds…and his opponent would feel his hatred.

With Nigel's theme fading fast, the English-born brawler turned his head and glared at the runway as he awaited his quarry. He would not have to wait long, however, as the lights suddenly turned off and a howling "yo" usually reserved for Japanese theater penetrated the Budokan Hall, whose crowd quickly erupted into an explosion of cheers. The howl was immediately followed by a quick succession of guitar riffs, and the sound of a flute playing a simple tune overlapping the riffs.

Stepping through the curtain and making his presence known to the people, the next competitor slowly made his way down the entrance ramp, interacting with the crowd his way down and slapping hands with them as a sign of friendship. Nigel scoffed as the wiry Asian man, wearing long black pants with red and yellow dragons curling around the legs, played nice and took his sweet time getting to the ring, as if he had all the time in the world: he couldn't wait to knock the spit out of this "fan-favorite" and show the crowd who really deserved the admiration.

Sliding into the ring in dramatic fashion, the goatee-sporting Japanese combatant rolled onto his feet and flashed Nigel a quick smile before jumping high into the air and performing an impressive aerial split. Landing gracefully on his feet and retreating to the corner opposite of where Nigel was sitting, the man climbed up the turnbuckle and posed for the crowd, who roared their approval of his being there with thunderous applause while the referee and announcer slid into the ring.

"Standing in the corner to my left," the announcer began with his arm outstretched to where Nigel was just beginning to stand back up, "representing Ring of Honor, from London, England: he stands at 1.85 meters and 100 kilograms…NIGEL McGUINNESS!"

Rather than acknowledge himself with a raised fist or his trademark pose, Nigel stuck up both his hands and raised his middle fingers for the entire crowd to see. Even with this sign of complete and utter disrespect, however, he still heard cheers from the audience mixed in with the boos that he was hoping to hear. "Wankers," he muttered as he put his hand down.

"Standing in the corner to my right," the announcer motioned to the corner that the Japanese man was standing in, "representing HUSTLE, from Tokyo, Japan! Standing at 1.75 meters and 95 kilograms…he is the Japanese Buzzsaw, TAJIRI!"

"Big bloody deal," Nigel said out loud as the crowd once again erupted into an explosion of cheers. "Another has-been looking for one last shot at glory…well, you're not going to be trumping me so quick, wanker!"

Rather than return the insult with something even more degrading (albeit it would probably have been said in his native language), Tajiri outstretched his hand in sportsmanship, much to the surprise of Nigel. The Englishman stared at the hand for several seconds, shutting out the cries in the crowd that goaded him to shake the hand. However, Nigel eventually came to his senses and slapped Tajiri hard in the face as a blatant show of contempt and disrespect.

Rather than return the slap with one his own, Tajiri instead countered the slap with a monstrous standing Buzzsaw kick that knocked Nigel off of his feet and onto his buttocks. The Englishman was so heavily dazed by the sudden attack, that if the referee had called for the bell the moment the attack had made contact, Nigel would have been easily pinned and his quest to become champion would have ended very quickly.

Fortunately for him, the referee waited for him to stumble back onto his feet and shake away the dizziness that such a kick bestowed upon him. Nigel growled at the taunting laughter from the crowd and quickly snatched the microphone away from the announcer. "That didn't count," he shouted, visibly embarrassed by being caught unaware. "Now that I'm ready, I'm going to return the favor and bop your hero into next Wednesday…so suck on that, you pukes!"

Shoving the microphone back into the announcer's hands, Nigel cracked his knuckles and neck while the referee explained the rules of the match to them. Just like the match before it, the winner would be decided by pinfall, submission, disqualification, knockout, or countout. The Englishman nodded his head in agreement, as he already had a very simple plan: do unto Tajiri what Tajiri did unto him, and that was damn near knock his head off.

The instant the bell rang signaling the start of the match, Nigel wasted no time in implementing that plan by rearing back and attempting to flatten Tajiri with a wild lariat. Fortunately for the oriental pugilist, Nigel had not completely shaken off the effects of the kick he had received earlier and thus his aim was not as good as it would normally be: his attack missed completely as Tajiri effortlessly ducked under it and positioned himself behind the slightly-bigger Nigel.

Tajiri locked his fingers together around Nigel's waist and prepared to deliver a German suplex to the brash Englishman. However, Nigel quickly hooked his leg around Tajiri's and blocked the suplex attempt. When Tajiri tried to do it again, the Ring of Honor representative used his powerful strikes to deliver swift elbows to the Japanese Buzzsaw. After the third elbow, Tajiri finally released Nigel and backed away from him.

Turning around and seeing that his opponent was reeling from his elbows, Nigel once again went on the offensive and applied his fist to Tajiri's head. He repeated this maneuver for a grand total of five times before Nigel lowered his fist only to raise his other hand in preparation for another lariat. However, the crafty Tajiri quickly realized what was happening and instinctively charged towards Nigel, ramming his shoulder into him and pushing him all the way to the other side of the ring.

With his back to the turnbuckle and Tajiri still latching onto him, Nigel cursed and screamed as his fists rained down upon the Japanese man's back. Even though Nigel was normally a very technically sound wrestler, he had arrived to the tournament in such a foul and unruly mood that he wished nothing more than to inflict raw pain on a person in a full-on brawl. Struggling to defend himself, Tajiri continued pushing Nigel into the turnbuckle while at the same time punching his ribs.

When the referee finally pulled the two men apart, Nigel and Tajiri looked up and glared at each other maliciously. This was the first time that the two of them had ever encountered one another in a wrestling ring, and yet Nigel had already made it a point to guarantee that neither of them would be friendly terms once the match was over. "There's plenty more where that came from, Tajiri," Nigel shouted as he left his corner and charged his adversary as soon as the referee got out of his way. "Come and get some!"

Not willing to go back on the defensive, Tajiri once again tried to take Nigel out with a buzzsaw kick, but Nigel was not a stupid man that would fall for the same trick twice: he narrowly dodged the kick, causing Tajiri to hit nothing but air. Using the spinning momentum he gained from the kick, Tajiri lifted his arm and attempted to strike Nigel with a spinning backfist, but the Englishman was able to avoid that attack, as well.

When Tajiri tried one final spinning attack, Nigel caught the attacking arm and used it to bring the Asian acrobat into a hammerlock. Deciding to take the hold a step further, Nigel latched onto Tajiri's other arm and turned the hold into a double hammerlock. Using the power and strength that could have only come from hard and rigorous training, Nigel lifted Tajiri into the air only to drop him on his face: a technique that he dubbed "the Guvnor's Crumpet."

Regaining enough control of himself to fight more like a wrestler and less like some moronic ruffian, Nigel took a sharp breath and grabbed hold of the fallen Tajiri's arm in hopes to put him in a wrist lock that would lead to his patented "London Dungeon" hold, but Tajiri rolled away before Nigel could get a good grip on the arm and sprung back to his feet. The Englishman tried to go after him, but Tajiri dropped right back down onto his feet and sent Nigel's chin crashing into the turnbuckle with a drop toe hold.

With sinister intentions in his eyes, Tajiri quickly walked to the opposite turnbuckle and charged towards Nigel with his fist raised. Just when he was about to collide with Nigel, however, the Englishman suddenly sprang back to life and jumped up to a point where he was hanging upside-down over the top rope. As a result, Tajiri screeched to a halt and watched Nigel curiously, only to receive a double mule kick just as Nigel came back down.

Landing gracefully on his feet and turning around, Nigel quickly hopped up to the second rope and lunged out at the stunned Tajiri with a flying cross chop. The attack hit its mark and sent the two of them tumbling to the mat. Using the rolling momentum to his advantage, Nigel hooked Tajiri's legs and attempted for a pin-fall. However, Tajiri still had enough fight left in him for a kick-out at two, causing Nigel to growl in frustration.

Lifting Tajiri back up so he could inflict more damage on him, Nigel struck Tajiri in the chin with a textbook European uppercut that sent Tajiri stumbling backwards. Following the Japanese man like a tiger stalking his prey, Nigel pressed onward with a second European uppercut that pushed him farther away, and then repelled him right into the turnbuckle a swift pushing boot.

With his collapsing like a rag doll upon impact, Nigel stood over his quarry using the second rope as a makeshift ladder and gave the crowd the middle finger once again before turning that finger into a closed fist and applying it to Tajiri's head a total of ten times before the man known as the Japanese buzzsaw collapsed on his buttocks.

"Time to end this," Nigel shouted out loud as he picked up Tajiri and dropped him on the top rope, making doubly sure that his groin area was where he landed. "Say good night, chum!" Climbing up to the top turnbuckle, Nigel took a long, deep breath as he reared back his arm and prepared for his favorite aerial maneuver: the flying lariat.

Like a school bus hitting a pedestrian, Nigel sent Tajiri careening back to the mat with wicked impact. Landing right next to his quarry, the Ring of Honor representative took a moment to catch his breath: he had been unloading on Tajiri for several minutes. Surely the most perfected move in his arsenal would be enough…wouldn't it?

Putting his hopes on one last pin-fall, Nigel rolled onto Tajiri and listened to the referee count. One. Two. Thr-"NO!"

Nigel shouted out his defiance as Tajiri suddenly lifted his shoulder up just in time to avoid losing the bout. "You should have just lied down, chum," he said with a hiss as he rolled Tajiri over on his belly and grabbed onto his wrist. "Now I'm going to really make you scream!"

With his London Dungeon fully cinched in, Nigel allowed himself an evil smirk as Tajiri grit his teeth in agony and pain. He had done little but get trounced the entire match-up: Nigel doubted that Tajiri had anything left in him to break out of his trademark submission hold. "Just give it up, mate!" Nigel screamed in Tajiri's ear. "You can't win, because you have these pathetic excuses of wrestling fans cheering you on!"

Suddenly, Tajiri stopped grinding his teeth and flashed into attention, as if Nigel's words instilled some sort of second wind into him. Using all of his strength and endurance, Tajiri found through the pain and used his free hand and feet to crawl towards the nearest rope. It was a relatively long way from the center of the ring to the edge of it, but if he kept going the way he was going…

Not willing to give Tajiri any quarter, Nigel tightened his wrist clutch and put Tajiri in even more pain than he was already in. With his belittling words being beaten into his ear, the Japanese Buzzsaw continued to push forward and make his way towards the vital bottom rope that would force Nigel to break the hold. However, Nigel could see that Tajiri's strength was wavering: it was only a matter of time before he would tap out and surrender to him, thus breaking the hearts of everyone in the arena that their hometown hero could not come out on top.

Reaching out as far as he could, like a thief trying to take a diamond through the narrow gap in between laser alarms, Tajiri wrapped his fingers around the bottom rope and held on tight. The crowd let out a sigh of relief as the referee knelt down next to Nigel and forcefully commanded him to free the HUSTLE representative from the London Dungeon or forfeit the match to him.

Taking the five-count the referee gave him to its limit, Nigel forcefully threw the damaged arm onto the mat and let out a shout of frustration. However, a sadistic grin crept onto his face soon afterward as he thought of something else: a technique that he used every once in a while that almost guaranteed victory.

"Helping" Tajiri back onto his feet by yanking onto the arm he locked into the London Dungeon, Nigel lifted his adversary into the air and held him upside in a delayed vertical suplex position. Rather than drop Tajiri in a full suplex, however, Nigel instead dropped him back down the way he came to drap his midsection over the hard top rope. Throwing in a couple of European uppercuts while still his opponent steady, Nigel turned around and placed Tajiri in a three-quarter facelock in preparation for his rope-hung cutter: the Tower of London.

Just before Nigel could execute the move and drop Tajiri on his face, the Japanese Buzzsaw suddenly began shaking violently, trying his hardest to break out of the hold. With the wriggling too much for Nigel, the Englishman was forced to let go of Tajiri's head…but Tajiri had no intention of letting go of his. Pulling Nigel closer to the ropes like a lion dragging its prey back to its lair, Tajiri flipped over and hooked Nigel's legs with his arms and while at the same time keeping the Englishman's arms in place with his legs to place him in a rope-assisted Tarantula hold.

Now it was Nigel's turn to scream, as he roared in agony and shouted to the referee to make Tajiri release him from the excruciating yet illegal hold. Taking the five count to its limit, Tajiri hopped down to the outskirts of the ring and grabbed onto Nigel's foot to trip him and force him to fall flat on his face. Quickly climbing back in and standing over his opponent just as he was beginning to scramble back onto his feet, Tajiri ran his finger across his throat as the crowd roared their approval.

Now it was time for the hometown hero to make his city proud.

Utilizing his powerful legs, the quick Tajiri bombarded Nigel with a rapid series of single-leg kicks to the head and mid-section, concluding the flurry with a double mule kick right to the Englishman's nose that knocked him flat on his back. Going for a pinfall, Tajiri got onto his belly and hooked Nigel's legs, but he was only able to get a two-count as Nigel kicked out of the pin.

Standing back up and lifting Nigel up with him, Tajiri kicked Nigel in the head once again before hurling him to the nearest turnbuckle with an Irish Whip. Nigel collided with the turnbuckle back-first and let out a shout of pain as his spine crashed against the hard surface, stunning him long enough for Tajiri to quickly advance towards him. Performing a pair of highly-athletic cartwheels on his journey to his opponent, Tajiri drove his arm him Nigel's jaw with a picture-perfect handspring elbow and smiled as Nigel stumbled out of the corner.

When Tajiri attempted to put Nigel in a debilitating headlock, the Englishman suddenly sprang back to life and punched Tajiri hard in the stomach. Back on the offensive at last, Nigel lifted Tajiri over his head in preparation for a power bomb. However, Tajiri's roll had not ended yet: grabbing onto Nigel's head as soon as he was on his shoulders, the Japanese Buzzsaw fell back down to the mat and drove Nigel into it along with him for an impressive DDT counterattack.

"I'm not going to accept this," Nigel said out loud as he struggled back to his feet and kicked the rising Tajiri in the stomach. "I'm not going to lose to a wanker like you!"

Putting all of his energy into one final attack, Nigel ran for the edge of the ring and performed a half-flip between the top and middle ropes: the momentum builder he needed to perform the most powerful of all his strikes: the Jawbreaker Lariat. No matter how much energy Tajiri had left in him, there was no way that he would able to withstand the full brunt of what Nigel christened "the greatest lariat on the planet."

Nigel charged toward Tajiri with great ferocity and violent intent, fully prepared to send Tajiri into a coma with all of his mighty strength. However, the crafty Tajiri had one last trick up his sleeve: the mysterious green mist within his throat that he promptly spewed in Nigel's face just as he was about to take his home-run swing. With his face now greener than grass, Nigel roared in pain and agony as he fell onto one knee and gripped his face in pain.

Using his knee as a makeshift stair, Tajiri used the stepping momentum to ram his knee into Nigel's jaw: the technique known throughout Japan as the Shining Wizard. However, Nigel remained straight, albeit dazed from the attack. Tajiri went for a second Shining Wizard, and that too connected with Nigel's jaw, but still he remained vertical.

Tajiri let out a sigh of frustration as he figured out what would be enough to put him away: the Buzzsaw kick Nigel had eaten earlier had started the damage done to his head, and the many drop kicks and Shining Wizards further added to the damage. What would be the coup de grace that would win him the match?

A smile crept across Tajiri's face as he realized the one technique he had not used against him. Using all of his strength, Tajiri lifted Nigel high into the air in a vertical suplex position, keeping him elevated for the entire crowd to see. After a few seconds of letting Nigel's blood rush to his head, Tajiri fell onto his back, and as a result Nigel was dropped right on his head with a sickening thud.

With his Brainbuster successful, Tajiri hooked the unconscious Nigel's legs and let the referee count his victory: One. Two. Three.

"The winner, as a result of pinfall at 11:35, TAJIRI!"

With an over-the-top celebration consisting of jumping up and down while pumping his fist into the air with each time he ascended, Tajiri let out a shout of victory as his theme music once again echoed throughout the arena. Once the referee calmed him down enough to raise his hand in victory, Tajiri headed to the nearest turnbuckle and jumped onto the second rope to pose for the crowd that had been so kind to him throughout the entire ordeal.

This was his home, and he wanted to make his fellow Tokyo residents feel welcome.

After a few seconds of posing, Tajiri turned his head to see Nigel begin to stir. "Dammit," Nigel said under his breath before pounding the mat with his fist. "Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT! How could I lose!? I had trained so hard, and worked so hard to shut out the sounds of the crowd. Why can't I win!?"

Nigel's eyes widened in shock as he heard the sound of thunderous applause accompanied to hundreds of voices chanting his name. "Stop it," Nigel screamed as he stood back up and snatched the microphone away from the announcer standing in the ring. "I don't need your sympathy, you wankers! SHUT UP!"

However, the cheers and chanting continued on: even though Nigel had been nothing but rude to them, he still put on a grand fight and showed genuine spirit. That was something that the crowd respected, whether Nigel wanted them to or not. Humiliated and defeated, Nigel quickly tossed the microphone aside and rolled out of the arena before running towards the back in an attempt to escape the crowd that he had earned the respect of…even if he did not want that respect.

--

_Backstage…_

A smile crept upon Tommy Dreamer's face as he watched the conclusion of the match-up from the comfort of the locker room television: like himself, Tajiri was an integral part of the original Extreme Championship Wrestling, and seeing him win was certainly something that made him glad. If he were to face Tajiri in a match, then the two of them could prove to the world that the spirit of his beloved brand had not died down yet.

"Dreamer-san…"

Turning around to see a middle-aged Japanese man, Tommy stood up from his bench and asked, "How can I help you, sir?"

"I would just like to inform you that your match is next," the man said with a heavy accent before opening the door to the locker room. "Please head to the entrance ramp immediately."

"No problem," Dreamer said with a nod of his head as he turned off the television and started walking out the door. "Thanks for telling me."

As Tommy walked towards the arena, he took a sharp breath and looked at his attire: long black pants with a jagged dark purple stripe running down each leg, and a black t-shirt with the three large red letters etched with a silver rectangle that meant more to him than anything else: E-C-W. For his pride, and for the pride of those great initials, Tommy would do what he did best…

…and that was proving just why he was, is, and always will be the heart and soul of that ECW.

"It's showtime…"


	4. Tommy Dreamer vs BxB Hulk

A familiar steady rock beat echoed throughout the Budokan Hall as Tommy Dreamer finished wrapping his hands with tape and stepped out onto the entrance ramp. It had been a long time since he first stepped into a wrestling ring with the original ECW, and now he was a competitor in the Super J Cup: he had plenty of reason to smile as he gently bobbed his head to his entrance music and walked towards the ring.

As he walked down to the ring, he made it a point to take slight detours and slap the hands of the fans in the aisle seats. Without the aid and support of the fans, Tommy would not have lasted in the business as long as he had, and would instead find himself saddled with a safer but more boring line of work. The least he could do was interact with the crowd make them feel welcome to this great tournament, and that was exactly what he did.

After a good minute of fan appreciation, Tommy finally made it to the steps of the ring. Tossing his roll of tape far into the crowd so as to give one lucky fan a souvenir, the heart and soul of ECW stepped into the ring at last and resumed bobbing his head to his theme. Even though the lyrics of the "Man in the Box" tune he had used as his music for many years now were absent from the particular version he was using, it still held sentimental value to him.

He was a man in the box, and now was his time to break out of that box and show the world what he was all about.

As his music gradually started to fade, Tommy turned to the entrance ramp and patiently waited for his opponent to make himself known. Counting himself, there were four competitors that had not yet competed, and the only person among them that Tommy knew the identity of…was the same man that insulted him two days earlier. If he could get his hands on Booker T in the first round, Tommy would be more than satisfied with simply advancing to the semi-final so long as he could show Booker that an "ECW has-been" was more than enough to best him.

"So," Tommy muttered to himself as he crouched down and placed his hands on his knees. "Who's it going to be?"

Instead of hearing Booker T's admittedly iconic voice blast across the loudspeaker, Tommy was instead greeted to the sound of pulsating techno. As a result, the Budokan Hall exploded into cheers and thunderous applause echoed throughout it: it would seem that whoever was about to come out was very popular, and the Innovator of Violence allowed himself a smirk. Whoever he was, he was probably an opponent of the highest caliber if he had earned such a response.

When Tommy's opponent stepped onto the entrance ramp and greeted the crowd with a friendly smile, however, the heart and soul of ECW raised an eyebrow in curiosity: his opponent certainly didn't look like what he expected his opponent to look like.

The young Japanese man, with his ruffled brown hair, baggy white pants and matching white choker around his neck, galloped towards the ring while zigzagging around the ramp to slap the hands of the fans just as Tommy had done before him. Sliding into the ring gracefully, the cheerful youth began clapping his hands to the beat of the music, making sure to hold his hands high into the air so that the crowd could join in. As he did so, his theme gradually began to reach a turning point and the lights dimmed so that he was singled out by a single spotlight. Once the theme stopped completely, the competitor took a sharp breath and stood completely still…

…right before he broke out into an energetic dance to go along with his theme that had just crescendoed into a new, even more breath-taking beat. Clearly he had put a lot of time and thought into his entrance, and the crowd was completely silent as they stared in awe in wonder as the young man giving them a pre-match show. When the music finally died down, the man struck one last dynamic pose and the crowd once again exploded into cheers.

Whoever this pretty boy was, Tommy was certainly impressed by his vigor, and he applauded the young man as the lights came back on and the two competitors walked to the center of the ring. "You've got spirit, pal," he said out loud, though he wasn't entirely sure his opponent could understand him. "Hopefully you've got that same passion for wrestling."

"Standing to my left," the announcer began as he walked in between the two men, "representing World Wrestling Entertainment, from Yonkers, New York. He stands at 1.88 meters and 116 kilograms…and is the heart and soul of Extreme Championship Wrestling: TOMMY DREAMER!"

Tommy lifted his fist as the crowd gave him a warm reception, and he flashed a smile upon hearing a few "E-See-Daboru" chants within the cheers. Even in the land of the rising sun, the legacy of ECW was fresh in the fans' minds, further proving that the company that Tommy loved so much was worth the heartache.

"Standing to my right," the announcer motioned to the other man as Tommy lowered his arm, "representing Dragon Gate, from Sapporo, Japan. He stands at 1.78 meters and 76 kilograms…BxB HULLLLK!"

Tommy's smile faded slightly upon hearing the name: Teddy Long had mentioned it to him several times and had expressed an interest in signing the young man, but Dreamer's rigorous travel schedule and training regimen distracted him from watching any of the man's matches that the internet might have. In other words, he would now be facing an opponent completely unknown to him.

After the referee explained the rules to them, Tommy prepared to go to his respective corner so that the bell could be rung. Before he could do so, however, the young man known as BxB Hulk outstretched his hand and flashed Tommy a bright smile. Returning the smile with a thin smirk, Dreamer shook the hand and the sound of applause once again made itself known in the Budokan Hall.

**Quarterfinal match 3: Tommy Dreamer (WWE) vs BxB Hulk (DG)**

The bell soon rang, and suddenly the handshake turned into a tug of war, with the two men trying to overpower to other and pull the opponent towards him. However, all this confirmed was that Tommy was physically the more powerful of the two, as he eventually pulled Hulk forward and sent him crashing to the mat with a clothesline from his other arm.

Before Dreamer could do anything more, the young Hulk swept the Innovator of Violence off his feet with a sweeping leg as he came back down. Rising back up and performing a quick but stylish pose, Hulk lifted his leg and prepared to bring it down on the fallen Dreamer's head in a guillotine-like fashion. However, Tommy sprang to life and narrowly rolled out of the way before rising back onto his feet and taking a moment to catch his breath.

Even if Tommy was stronger, BxB Hulk was certainly faster: if not for the second he took to cater to the crowd, the guillotine kick would have connected. The ECW Original took note of this by lowering his stance and motioning for Hulk to come at him: a challenge that the speedster accepted by dashing towards him with exceptional quickness.

As soon as he was within striking distance, Hulk bombarded Tommy with a series of high kicks. Thanks to Tommy's quick reflexes, he was able to block several of the kicks. However, the kicks that did hit their mark wore down the Innovator of Violence to a point where the blocking became less frequent, and the kicks became more and more accurate.

After a remarkable fifteen kicks, BxB Hulk attempted to bring the bigger man down with a high-angle drop kick, using Tommy as a human springboard while he landed gracefully on his feet. The speed and power of the drop kick was so intense that Tommy stumbled all the way back into a turnbuckle, stunned from the flurry of attacks he had just endured.

BxB Hulk charged toward Tommy once again, but that was exactly what the ECW Original wanted. As soon as BxB Hulk pounced towards him, Tommy caught the younger fighter like a rag doll and slammed him back onto the mat for a devastating sit-out spinebuster.

Holding his fiery opponent in an attempt to end the match early, Dreamer watched the referee fall to his belly and begin the three-count. However, Hulk kicked out at one, and rolled away from Dreamer's grasp only to rise back up and kick him the face with a double mule kick just as Tommy was about to stand. Stunned from the attack, Tommy was left open to a side headlock that Hulk immediately followed with a running bulldog that drove his face into the mat.

Tommy quickly pushed himself off the ground and returned to his feet, just in time to dodge a high roundhouse kick from his feisty opponent. Locking his arms around the young man's waist, the Innovator of Violence bent over backwards and lifted Hulk into the air as a result only to drop him on his head with a bridging German Suplex. However, he was only able to get a two-count as Hulk kicked out of the hold and rolled back onto his feet.

Instead of immediately charging each other, the two men took a quick breather and gently applauded the other man. Neither competitor came into the bout expecting an easy victory, nor had they been disappointed thus far. Dreamer's experience and strength allowed him to endure BxB Hulk's lightning-like strikes, while the younger Hulk's speed and agility kept him from being pummeled by the more powerful American.

After a few seconds of admiration, the two men once again assumed a fighting stance and slowly circled the ring before charging each other once again with their fist raised. Hulk would throw the first punch, followed by a rapid flurry of others like it. Fortunately for Tommy, his bulk and size allowed him to shrug off many of the punches, and he countered with a powerful clothesline that floored Hulk as if he had just been hit with a baseball bat.

Not willing to fall for the same trick twice, Tommy jumped over the rising Hulk's sweeping kick and fell back to the ground with an elbow drop, hoping to strike Hulk before he fully rose up. The stone-like elbow only grazed Hulk's arm, however, and Tommy landed on the mat with a thud. Hulk then countered with an elbow drop of his own: a mid-air corkscrew spin that added rotational velocity to the attacking arm and landed right on Dreamer's sternum.

Gripping his midsection as he stood back up, Tommy let out a groan of pain while Hulk ran for the nearest set of ropes to ricochet off of him and give him momentum for the next attack. The ECW Original tried to put an end to such shenanigans by throwing a hook punch at the oncoming Hulk, but the energetic youth instead latched onto Dreamer's body, spun around it like a snake, and flung Dreamer across the ring with an impressive tilt-a-whirl arm drag.

Tommy was slower to get back up, dazed from the exotic-but-effective maneuver that his opponent pulled off. However, Hulk wasn't about to give Tommy any quarter: once again heading for the ropes to give him proper momentum, the Dragon Gate representative charged towards Tommy using the ricocheting momentum as a booster.

As soon as Hulk took to the air to go for a running drop kick, however, Tommy sprang to life and caught both of the young man's legs and used them to slam the back of Hulk's head into the mat: a Liger Bomb counterattack that drew mild cheers from the crowd. As a result of the attack, Hulk's shoulders were now flat on the mat: something the referee noticed as he fell onto his belly and began the three-count.

In an act of sheer willpower and resolve, Hulk lifted his shoulders off the mat just in time to avoid being pinned and rolled away from Tommy's grasp. Realizing that he stood up before Tommy had risen to his feet, BxB Hulk reared back just as the ECW Original stood up completely, and then used his amazing leaping ability to hurdle over his opponent and pull him down to the mat with a Sunset Flip.

Tommy quickly kicked out of the pinning predicament, and rolled backwards to put some distance between him and his opponent. Quickly putting his guard up to parry Hulk's next attack, Tommy managed to catch Hulk's spinning sobat kick and tucked the attacking leg in between his arm. However, that was merely a snare for Hulk to try and kick the ECW Original in the head with an enziguri.

Fortunately for Tommy, he had more than enough experience to know what Hulk was up to, and he quickly ducked his head to narrowly avoid the kick. With Hulk now on his belly and his leg still in Tommy's grip, the Innovator of Violence utilized his respectable technical skills to grab onto his opponent's other leg and cross it with the one Tommy still had in his grip to place him in the distinct Cloverleaf submission hold.

For the first time throughout the entire ordeal, Hulk let out a roar of agony as his back became subject to excruciating pain courtesy of the submission hold. "I don't want to draw this out, pal," Tommy said out loud as Hulk struggled to break free. "If you tap out now, I won't hold it against you!"

Of course, the young Hulk was not about to disappoint his fans by tapping out without first putting up a fight. Crawling and clawing forward in spite of the pain he was in, Hulk slowly but surely dragged both himself and Tommy towards the crucial bottom rope that would force the ECW Original to break his hold and allow the match to continue.

Using all of his mighty strength, Tommy tightened his Cloverleaf and once again elicited a roar of pain from the young Hulk. Despite this, Hulk continued to crawl and wriggle towards the bottom rope, and his opponent was still dragged along with him. His struggling was fading fast, however: if he did not reach it soon, he would have no energy left to do anything except tap out.

With one final lunge, Hulk wrapped his fingers around the bottom rope at last, and the referee commanded Tommy to release the Cloverleaf or risk disqualification. Not one to get disqualified when so much was at stake, the ECW Original did what he was told and relinquished his hold on Hulk's back. However, the damage had been done, and Tommy had several more nasty things planned for his opponent in spite of the respect he had for him.

Waiting patiently for Hulk to stumble back onto his feet and catch his breath, Tommy grabbed onto the young man's arms from behind and tucked them underneath his legs to pull him upwards like a yo-yo. Once he did that, Tommy fell over backwards and slammed Hulk into the mat back-first for an innovative pumphandle suplex.

Quickly rising back onto his feet, Tommy raised his fists and waited for Hulk to stand up so he could pummel him into next week. While he didn't do exactly that, he came awfully close and he bombarded the Japanese wrestler with a flurry of lefts and rights honed throughout the years via intense training and tribulations. With his opponent dazed from the flurry, Tommy ran past the young man, ricocheted off the ropes, and ran back towards Hulk to grab him from behind and slam his face into the mat with a one-handed bulldog.

Rolling onto his back and flipping back onto his feet, BxB Hulk suddenly sprang to life once again and completely shrugged off Dreamer's punch to the face and countered with a high-impact backflip kick to Tommy's chin that knocked him flat on his buttocks: a technique that Hulk called the Mouse Clicker. Hulk landed gracefully on his feet, saw the damage he had done, and charged Tommy once again to return on the offensive. Just as he was about to try and go for a flying knee, however, the ECW Original's instincts kicked on and he caught the airborne Hulk and drove his face into the mat with a Flapjack counter.

The two men quickly rose back onto their feet, but Hulk was the first to resume the match by delivering a hard chop to Tommy's chest, followed by three more of its kind before Hulk ran to the closest turnbuckle and prepared to deliver an airborne attack. Unfortunately for him, the ECW Original ignored the stings of the chop and disrupted Hulk's footing, causing the young man to fall over backwards with his feet entangled between the top ropes and the rest of his body dangling upside-down like a slab of meat.

However, Tommy did not immediately attack his lopsided foe: instead he quickly walked towards the opposite turnbuckle and pointed to the crowd. Taking a deep breath as he prepared to charge his opponent, Tommy shouted out the initials of the organization that he adored and treasured, pounding his chest with each letter with the crowd echoing his sentiments.

"E...C...W!"

With the spirit of ECW within him fully awakened, Tommy charged towards the dangling Hulk with violent intent burning his eyes. Upside-down and disoriented, Hulk was unable to stop the Innovator of Violence from planting both of his feet into his face with a running baseball slide that was so impactful that it freed Hulk from the Tree of Woe and cause him to fall just next to where Dreamer was getting back onto his feet.

Realizing that the young man had stopped moving, Tommy crouched down and covered the young man as the referee prepared to start the three-count. However, the ECW original was surprised to realize that the count never came, and he instead heard the referee scolding him and pointing out that the man's feet were on the ropes and thus the pinfall could not be counted. Tommy let out a sigh of frustration and fatigue as he pulled Hulk back onto his feet and prepared to whittle him down some more.

However, Dreamer took too much time getting back up, and Hulk woke up in time to kick his foe in the stomach and cause him to kneel over in pain. Placing the older competitor in a side face lock, Hulk then proceeded to ram his knee into Tommy's face multiple times until he eventually bloodied his nose and stained his white pants crimson. Once that was done, Hulk completely his flurry by jumping down into a sitting position and driving Tommy's face into the mat in the process: a sitout facebuster that he liked to call "the BxB Smash."

Turning Dreamer over in hopes of achieving victory against the larger, more powerful opponent, Hulk hooked the legs and bobbed his head in synchronization with the beats of the referee's hand. Just when the referee was about to declare Hulk the winner via pinfall, Tommy lifted his left elbow to the side just enough for it to be considered off the mat, therefore letting the match continue.

Hulk, visibly tired, quickly stood back up and stomped the fallen Tommy's injured face a few times before heading to the nearby turnbuckle and climbing to the top as quickly as he could. Once he reached the top, the young man took the time to look at the large crowd witnessing his ascent, and struck one final pose before preparing what he hoped to be the coup de grace: an aerial assault that only someone of his athleticism could perform. Leaving his feet at last, Hulk took flight and performed a dazzling mid-air backflip before plummeting back down to the mat so that his trademark BxB Star Press could make contact.

However, Tommy was not about to just lie down and let the young man take his place in the tournament: lifting his knees so as to protect his fallen body, the Innovator of Violence watched as Hulk's abdomen collided with his legs and listened to the resulting screams of agony that came from the young man's mouth. Even though Hulk got the worst of the impact, however, Dreamer still had trouble getting back onto his feet: his legs were obviously hurt in the process.

With a grimace of pain across his face, Tommy picked up the writing Hulk and placed him in a fireman's carry. Spinning his opponent around so as to further disorient him, the Innovator of Violence let out one final yell before falling in the direction that Hulk's head was facing and driving his skull into the mat, a powerful technique that he had dubbed "the Dreamer Driver." Certain that he had finally attained victory, let Hulk fall flat on his back and then rolled over to place himself on top of the Japanese man.

One. Two. Three.

"The winner by pinfall, at 9:47, TOMMY DREAMER!"

With his bodily fluids trickling down his face, Tommy let out a sigh of relief as he slowly stood back onto his feet and let the referee raise his hand in victory while his music once again played over the arena sound system. It was very easy to see why Teddy Long had been itching to sign his opponent to an ECW contract, yet he was able to emerge victorious and survive the first round of the tournament. As he lowered his hand, Dreamer took the time to look around at the thousands of fans cheering and celebrating his victory, and savored the chanting that was mixed in.

"E-See-Daboru! E-See-Daboru! E-See-Daboru!"

Walking up to the nearest turnbuckle and ascending to its second rung, Tommy outstretched his arms and let out a primal shout of victory and defiance: a shout that the crowd returned with even louder cheers. He was now one step closer to winning the Super J Cup, and it was certainly a feeling like no other.

If only his wife and kids were there to see him…

Quickly shaking his head of such thoughts, Dreamer hopped back down to the ring(and winced a bit as his legs were still hurting from ruining his opponent's Shooting Star Press) and walked over the announcer that was still in the ring. Politely taking the microphone from him, Tommy used his free hand to help the dazed BxB Hulk back onto his feet and then shake his hand before speaking into the microphone.

"Great match, kid: I can see why these people love you so much," Dreamer began, pausing to let the crowd cheer before continuing. "You know, if you're ever looking for some new stomping grounds, ECW will always have its doors open…"

Seeing that he had Hulk's attention, the heart and soul of ECW continued. "My general manager has a new superstar initiative that's going on right now, and he has had his eye on you for some time. Now that I've fought you myself, I know that you'd go far in WWE, as well as any other brand that is smart enough to give you an offer." Outstretching his hand once again, Tommy asked him a simple question. "How about it, Hulkster? Think you've got what it takes?"

The young BxB Hulk brushed back his brown hair as he listened to the clamoring of the crowd. After a few seconds of tension, the young man leaned over to Tommy's microphone and gave him his answer, in the best English he could muster:

"I…will think about it."

Respecting his defeated opponent's decision, Tommy grabbed onto Hulk's hand and raised it for the crowd to see before rolling out of the ring and walking to the back, a smile on his face as he posed for the crowd one last time. The night was still young, and Dreamer had every intention of bringing the same intensity he brought into his match with BxB Hulk to the next round…and eventually, to the tournament final.

Until then, the heart and soul of ECW could enjoy a victory well earned…and hope that Booker T's match would be just as tiring, so mashing his face in the next round would be just as gratifying.


	5. Booker T vs El Mesias

_Can you dig it, suckaaaaa!?_

With that important question forced upon everyone within the Budokan Hall, the next competitor revealed himself, wearing white wrestling trunks and boots with red flames etched upon them and black combat gloves across his hands, with his faithful wife by his side as a steady hip-hop instrumental played over the sound system. Putting his hand in front of his face with all five of his fingers spread, the man known as Booker T bobbed his head momentarily before suddenly springing off the ground, an explosions of sparks shooting from the entrance ramp heralding his arrival.

As one half of the participants in the final match of the first round, the former King of the Ring now had a responsibility to make a statement to the remaining competitors who had already advanced. More importantly, he had to make a statement to Tommy Dreamer: even if the ECW has-been managed to stumble past the first round, he would never get past the second…not as long as Booker T stood in his path.

Chivalrously letting his wife into the ring before him, Booker admired Sharmell as she gracefully stepped into the ring. One thing Tommy did not have was his wife with him to cheer him on, and Booker would be counting on that to lead him to victory. As long as he had Sharmell, he had absolutely nothing to fear…

…because no one would ever beat him up in front of his wife, unless they desired a trip to the emergency room.

Stepping into the ring at last, Booker cracked his knuckles and turned to the entrance ramp. "Come on out, fool," he shouted, grabbing onto the ropes and leaving over them. "I'm in a good mood and I'm ready to have a real match. Come on down so I can show you why I've been doing this for the last twenty years!"

"Easy, honey," Sharmell wrapped her arm around her husband's arm, trying to ease his anxiousness. "It doesn't matter who comes out from that entrance ramp, because there's no way he can possibly beat you! Just be patient, and he'll get his come-uppance in good time!"

As if to answer Booker's challenge, the lights of the arena suddenly dimmed to a point where visibly became limited to a dark purple hue. The crowd, as well as Booker and Sharmell, were suddenly overcome with a wave of silence as the next competitor prepared to make himself known.

The silence soon gave way to church organs playing a dark and foreboding tune, and the look of intensity on Booker's face gave way to a look of nervousness as a medium built figure wearing a long, dark black leather coat stepped onto the entrance ramp. With his lengthy-but-messy black hair gently flowing behind him, the competitor walked towards the ring as Booker and Sharmell began backing away from the ropes, overcome by the aura of this new opponent.

Stepping into the ring and slowly outstretching his arms with his palms facing upward, the mysterious competitor gently bowed his head, as if he were greeting the crowd in his own cryptic way. Keeping his head down as he undid the many buckles of his jacket, the organs gave way to an equally dark techno beat. Once the jacket was completely undone, the beat crescendoed into a electric guitar squeal and the man suddenly sprang into action, tossing his jacket away with dramatic flair to reveal purple wrestling trunks, boots, and gloves split between black flames as his music became a combination of guitars, organs, and trombones.

Staring at Booker T with malicious intent burning in his pale eyes as the lights came back on, the lightly-tanned wrestler cracked his neck and walked to the center of the ring where the announcer was waiting. Hesitant at first, the dark-skinned veteran put his doubts aside and followed suit, staring face-to-face with his slightly-smaller opponent. "You may look intimidating, with your purple speedo and all," Booker said to his opponent, masking his uncertainly with a wave of bravado, "but now you're stepping into the ring with royalty…"

"Standing to my left," the announcer began, motioning to the American, "representing Total Nonstop Action, from Houston, Texas. Standing at 1.91 meters and 115 kilograms…he is a thirty-three time champion…BOOKER T!"

Taking a deep breath and putting on a confident smile upon hearing the number of titles he had won, Booker raised his arm and outstretched his pinky for the crowd to see. Even though someone else had won the King of the Ring tournament since his victory, royalty was not something that would fade over time. The honor he held still lingered, and Booker would never forget about that accomplishment.

"Standing to my right," the announcer motioned to the other man, "representing Asistencia Asesoría y Administración, from Bayamón, Puerto Rico. Standing at 1.85 meters and 111 kilograms…EL MESIAS!"

"Mesias," Booker muttered to himself, suddenly remembering the man in front of him. Not long before Booker joined the company, there was a competitor in TNA who had a penchant for being exceptionally sadistic to a point where his foes considered him a demon. That competitor happened to be the man standing before him, and it would seem that he would be facing him for the first time. "I wonder what new tricks he's learned."

As the referee explained to the two combatants the rules of the bout, Mesias flashed Booker a smirk that was so cruel and sinister that Sharmell let out a quick shriek of fear. Booker, on the other hand, put back on his face on intensity and glared back at the man while Sharmell rolled out of the ring so she could escape the man. "You think you can get away with scaring my wife!? I'm going to knock you out for that!"

**Quarterfinal match 4: Booker T (TNA) vs El Mesias (AAA)**

Booker wasted absolutely no time with idle banter or masterful feints, instead attacking the vile creature that dared to threaten his wife the instant the bell rang. With his fists flying and his rage burning fiercely, Booker let his punches of righteous fury rain down upon the head of Mesias, hoping to bring the man down quickly but painfully so that he could advance to the next round and avenge the pride of his wife.

Unfortunately for him, Mesias was not going to simply lie down for the Houston-born veteran, and brought Booker's attack to a halt with a quick headbutt to the chest, followed by a punching flurry of his own. Quickly recovering from the headbutt and realizing he was in trouble, Booker once again tried to get back onto the offensive and traded punches with Mesias until the two of them were throwing their arms at each other like two drunkards brawling.

The two competitors punched their way across the ring until Booker's back was against the top left turnbuckle, at which point Mesias intensified his attack by adding midsection kicks to his flurry of punches. Even though being between these two men probably was not in the best interest of the referee, he still took it upon himself to separate the two men so that Booker could retreat from his corner and resume the bout.

Taking a moment to catch his breath and regain his focus, Booker remained in his corner as a low, dark chuckle tickled Mesias' throat as he noticed the shock in his opponent's eyes. It was clear that Mesias was trying to play mind games with the twenty-year veteran, and Booker would have to fight much smarter than simply brawling with the diabolical Puerto Rican.

Slowly getting out of his corner and putting his hands up in a fighting stance honed through years of training, Booker carefully advanced towards the laughing Mesias before latching onto his shoulders in an attempt to overpower the smaller man. After a few seconds of struggling with him, Booker's leg shot into action and kicked Mesias in the stomach, causing him to bend over in pain.

Not one to pass up such a golden opportunity, Booker ran past Mesias' head to ricochet off of the ropes and prepare to strike him with his favorite move, the Scissors Kick. Just before Booker could leave his feet and execute the move, however, Mesias put his head back up and forced the former King of the Ring to slide to a halt. That pause was all Mesias needed to drill Booker in the chin with a kick of his own and topple the taller fighter.

Rather than immediately go for a pinfall, however, Mesias slowly turned around to see Sharmell call out for her husband. Slowly bowing his head, as if thanking her for granting him such a horrified look, Mesias silenced the woman with his mannerisms before turning back around to see Booker stand back onto his feet while gently rubbing his jaw.

Wrapping his arm around Booker's head like a boa constrictor trapping its prey, Mesias wrestled the five-time WCW champion to his knees and attempted to squeeze the fight out of his opponent. Using his veteran instincts to his advantage, Booker rammed his elbow into Mesias' abdomen multiple times, forcing the AAA representative to loosen his hold enough for Booker to escape.

Going back on the offensive before the powerful Mesias could apply a different hold that would slow him down, Booker reared back and prepared for his next strike. Once he felt that he had built enough room, the former King of the Ring spun towards Mesias and attempted to send him into dreamland with a high-striking leg lariat.

To his bad fortune, Mesias caught the leg as effortlessly as a sensei would catch the kick of his fledging student. Pulling the leg towards him and taking Booker along with it, the demonic Mesias lifted his adversary into the air and slammed him back down to the mat with a spinebuster counterattack.

Rather than go for the cover like any sane competitor would in the wake of such a thunderous technique, Mesias instead rose back up and fell back down upon the TNA representative with a leg drop across his chest. Mesias smiled upon hearing Booker let out a shout of pain, so delivered another leg drop so he could hear the sound again.

After a third leg drop, Mesias grabbed onto the back of Booker's head and pulled him back onto his feet so he could sling him to the bottom right turnbuckle with an Irish Whip. However, Booker maintained his hold on Mesias and countered with an Irish Whip of his own to hurl his opponent back-first into the turnbuckle.

Mesias let out a groan of pain as he stumbled away from the turnbuckle and back towards the center of the ring. Booker seized the opportunity to inflict more pain on his opponent by snatching him up like a bag of potatoes, wrapping one arm around Mesias's torso and the other around his legs. Lifting the man who was almost the same weight he was up as easily as a father would raise his child, Booker fell into a sitting position and drove Mesias' back into the mat with a sidewalk slam.

With his confidence building, Booker went for a pinfall and flashed the crowd a huge smile. However, Mesias kicked out somewhere between one and two, and Booker's smile faded along with it. "Damn it," he said out loud as he pulled Mesias off the mat and flung him to the ropes. "I can't waste time with you!"

Mesias bounced off the ropes, just as Booker anticipated, but the Puerto Rican was not running towards him just to fall into his trap: instead, Mesias tackled Booker to the ground like a linebacker using a devastating body spear. The attack knocked the wind out of Booker and left him vulnerable to a flurry of Mesias' mounted punches that came down upon him like bony chunks of hail.

After the eleventh punch, Mesias mercifully went for a cover, but Booker sat back up and shoved his opponent off of him. Undeterred by his opponent's tenacity, Mesias lifted Booker off of the ground and placed him in a fireman's carry before falling down backwards to drive the Houston native's body into the ground with a Samoan Drop.  
Booker let out a groan of pain as he gripped his back while Mesias stood back up and admired his handiwork for a few moments before once again lifting Booker off the ground. After punching Booker in the chest a few times, Mesias planted his foe's head into the mat with a quick DDT, and went for a pinfall so he could advance to the next round.

Perhaps out of sheer instinct rather than purposeful intent, Booker lifted his shoulders off the mat, and in doing so gave Mesias unspoken permission to rain down more punishment upon him. Going for something new, Mesias placed Booker in a full nelson and bent over backwards to drive his head and shoulders into the mat with a dragon suplex.

Unlike Chris Masters before him, who used that same technique as a part of his submission strategy, Mesias was simply doing it because he enjoyed the look of pain in Booker's face. That was made perfectly evident from the smile on his face as Booker stood back up, dazed and not entirely sure where he was.

Like a schoolyard bully harassing a smaller child, Mesias pushed the teetering Booker off of his feet and onto his back, laughing evilly as the pathetic state he had reduced his opponent to. When the laughing stopped, Mesias reached for Booker's legs, crossed one of them over his forward leg and the other around the previous leg, and then turned Booker over on his belly to place him in his own sharpshooter hold that he liked to call "La Patriota."

Whatever dazed state Booker had been in before, he was quickly brought back to earth as his legs and lower back were subjected to a most exquisite pain that caused Mesias to lick his lips upon hearing Booker's screams. "Booker," Sharmell called out to her husband from ringside. "You can't let him win! You have to fight out of it!"

Unfortunately for Mesias, who had spent far too much time thinking about ways to hurt his opponent, Booker's journey to the vital bottom rope would not have to be a long one. Quickly clawing and scratching like a man trying to escape quicksand, Booker dragged his captured body across the ring with such force that Mesias could do little but try and keep up with him.

When Booker finally reached that bottom rope, Mesias tightened his hold around Booker and elicited another scream of pain from the TNA representative. Taking the five-count that he had been given to break the hold to its limit, Mesias slowly let go of Booker's legs and walked to the center of the ring, an evil smile on his face.

Tugging on Booker's legs and pulling him away from the ropes that he had been gripping so tightly, Mesias dropped an elbow on Booker's back and elicited another roar of pain from the man: it would not be long before his will would be completely shattered, and Mesias had something special planned for his execution.

Once again pulling on Booker's leg and dragging him across the ring on his back, Mesias came to rest Booker's body a few feet away from the bottom left turnbuckle. Once that was done and Mesias kicked the former King of the Ring's fallen body a few times, the Puerto Rican fiend slowly climbed up to the top of the turnbuckle and slowly outstretched his arms from the crowd to see.

Now, he would bring Booker's end from above, so he could advance to the next round and grant someone else the chance to feel the agony that he would put this poor fool through. Like the animal the technique was named after, Mesias leapt off the turnbuckle and towards the fallen Booker, bringing his feet and hands inwards and outwards for a picture-perfect frog splash.

Instead of landing on Booker's softer abdomen, however, Mesias instead crashed into the mat as the former King of the Ring rolled out of the way of the frog splash and let his opponent fall sternum-first on the canvas. "What, did you think I was just going to lie down for you?" Booker said to Mesias as he gripped his ribs in pain and struggled to get back onto his feet. "I told you, you're dealing with royalty now!"

Walking back over to Mesias and pulling him up by his hair, Booker targeted his opponent's damaged midsection with quick kicks, and wiped the smirk off of his opponent's face with a European Uppercut to his nose. Stunned from the attack, Mesias was left open to a follow-up jumping superkick that knocked him down like a slashed tree.

Not quite ready to go for a pinfall, Booker once again lifted Mesias off the ground, this time grabbing his arm and giving it a twist to force him back onto his feet. With his opponent held in place by the arm twist, Booker lifted his leg and struck Mesias squarely in the nose with a hook kick, followed by four others of its kind before the former King of the Ring let go of Mesias' arm so he could floor him with a spinning crescent kick.

Booker looked up to the turnbuckle where Mesias was only a few feet away from, and quickly stepped over his fallen body to climb up to the top rung. Once he reached the top, he jumped off like a diver trying to impress a group of judges, performed a mid-air somersault, and landed in a sitting position with his leg crashing into Mesias' sternum: a move that he had dubbed "the Houston Hangover."

Leaving his leg around Mesias, Booker watched the referee fall down next to his opponent and begin the three-count. To his surprise, however, Mesias lifted his shoulder just as the referee was about to slam his hand on the mat a third time and declare Booker the winner. "Tough bastard," he muttered as he slowly got back onto his feet.

Turning to his wife and waving to her to assure her that nothing was wrong with him despite the pain in his back, Booker prepared to finish off his sinister opponent in quick fashion: Dreamer was watching this match in the back, and he knew that he couldn't let that upstart have too much of an advantage. Just before he could prepare for a more powerful technique, however, Mesias rose back up and struck Booker in the throat with a finger-first thrust.

Before Mesias could add on to that attack, however, Booker retaliated in kind with a swift knife-edged chop to the chest. Mesias returned _that_ attack with a chop of his own, and so the two of them began trading hits like a game of ping-pong, with the ball being their fists. After seven repetitions, Mesias broke the pattern by tossing in an extra punch, following by a second and third punch that caused Booker to reel back in pain and surprise.

With the evil grin replaced with a look of intensity, Mesias ran for the barrier of the ring so he could gain momentum for whatever nasty move he had planned. Just when he turned around upon bouncing on the ropes, however, something grabbed his leg and caused him to trip and fall flat on his face. Quickly getting back up while gripping his face, Mesias turned around to see that it was Booker's wife Sharmell that was source of his problems.

Walking back over the ropes and glaring at Sharmell with a look of pure contempt and malice, Mesias spit a wad of bloody saliva at the meddlesome woman before turning back around to resume his assault on Booker. To his good fortune, his opponent had not completely shaken off the effects of the punches, and his back was bothering him to go along with it. He would have plenty of time to deliver the exclamation point on his symphony of pain.

Running towards Booker via violent intent, Mesias took to the air and grabbed onto Booker's neck like a demon coming from the depths of hell to claim a living soul, but the former King of the Ring simultaneously wrapped his arm around Mesias's chest and armpit. The two men fell to the mat with a sickening thud, with Mesias landing on his back in the wake of his opponent's Book End maneuver and Booker landing on his face in the wake of his foe's Straight to Hell technique.

The two men lay still for several moments, and the referee noted this by beginning the ten-count necessary for a knockout pin while the crowd watched on in a suspenseful hush. Somewhere between six and seven, Booker lifted his arm and placed it across Mesias's chest once again, causing the referee to stop his ten-count and begin the much simpler and shorter three-count. To Booker's good fortune, that was enough to attain victory over his troublesome opponent.

"The winner by pinfall, at 9:28, BOOKER T!"

Slowly standing back up, Booker looked down at the fallen Mesias and growled. He was supposed to be the favorite to win: to have so much trouble against someone that TNA thought expendable enough to release was downright insulting to both him and his company. "Sharmell," he shouted, causing his wife to stop cheering. "Fetch me something to teach this fool a lesson!"

As per her husband's request, Sharmell retrieved a steer folding chair near the broadcaster's booth a few feet away from where she was standing and slid it towards Booker as she stepped into the ring. Kneeling down and picking up the chair, Booker let out a primal shout of rage and fury as he lifted the chair above his head and brought it down on Mesias's head.

"You think you're sadistic, fool?!" He screamed as he repeated the process once again, this time busting Mesias wide open so the blood could flow down his sweaty face. "You've got me in a bad mood: now I'm going to show you what sadistic really is!"

As he continued to beat down his opponent, Booker was oblivious to the mob of officials that came running down the entrance ramp and sliding into the ring. Only a few of them spoke English, but the body language was enough for him to realize that they wanted him to cease the hostilities. "Not until I'm done," he shouted as the officials tried to restrain him. "He insulted my wife! I have to make him pay!"

After one last, thunderous chair shot, Booker tossed his weapon aside and slid out of the ring with his wife following suit. "Let that be a lesson to whoever is back there," he shouted as he headed back up the entrance ramp. "Anyone who tries to stop me is going to go through hell!"

Turning around to admire his handiwork, Booker and his wife's eyes widened in shock as Mesias suddenly sat back up as if he had just slipped over a banana peel as oppose to the savage beating his had just taken. Turning to his conqueror and standing back up so he could walk over to the ring barrier closest to to the ramp, Mesias took the microphone from the announcer and pointed to his bloody forehead before giving Booker his verdict.

"La Sangre…es magnifica, no?"

"Freak," Booker shouted back as he resumed walking up the ramp. "It doesn't matter how cool it is: it's my blood to draw, and not yours! And there's going to be plenty more of that stuff as long as I'm still in the tournament…and I know you can dig that…sucka!"


	6. Vignette

With the conclusion of Booker's match, the first round of the Super J Cup had come to an end. Rather than immediately move on to the next round, however, the officials decided that there would be a thirty minute intermission so that both the wrestlers and fans could be refreshed for the semi-finals, and ultimately the final match of the tournament.

For the remaining four competitors, what this should have meant was that they would be able to review their rivals' matches on video while resting their tired bodies. That way, they would be prepared in both mind and body against whoever they would wind up fighting, and therefore perform to the best of their abilities.

This is what it should have meant, but one competitor did not agree with this course of action. Alone in a dim-lit locker room, the wrestler who went by the name of "Black Tiger" performed his seventy-fifth sit-up as sweat glistened off of his muscular body. Given that he had almost a half-hour of rest between his match with Chris Masters and the bout between Booker and Mesias, he didn't really need much more of a breather.

All there was left to do was prepare himself for whoever would be his next opponent.

Upon completing his ninety-ninth sit-up, the man exhaled deeply and reached for his mask on top of the bench next to him. As the latest man to where the prestigious Black Tiger mask, he had a responsibility to emerge victorious in this tournament. Normally, he would feel obligated to tell all of his friends and family that he was blessed with such an honor.

However, the mask was not a mark of honor, but of shame. It was meant to hide his face from those same friends and family, not to mention his employers. If they learned that he was competing in the Super J Cup without their permission, both his job and reputation would be forfeit. "The only way I can do this, is if I hide my face," he whispered to himself as he ran his fingers through his short brown hair before bringing the mask closer to him. "For my wife, for my best friend, and for my honor, this is how is has to be…"

Before he could cloak his head underneath the guise of Black Tiger, the lights of the locker room suddenly intensified, surprising the man and forcing him to turn his head away from the door as he quickly put his mask back up. Slowly turning back around, the man's eyes narrowed as he saw a wiry Japanese man walk towards him with a mischievous grin on his face.

"You saw me," the man said to the intruder, his voice low with quiet fury, "didn't you, Tajiri?"

The international superstar known as Yoshihiro Tajiri shrugged his shoulders in response to Black Tiger's accusation, causing the American's mouth to curl back in a snarl.

"There's a very good reason why I'm wearing this mask," the man said as Tajiri hopped over the bench so that he was standing toe-to-toe with his fellow Super J Cup survivor. " My boss doesn't know I'm competing, my best friend doesn't know I'm competing, and even my wife doesn't even know I'm competing…do you know how that feels, to do something that is so forbidden that you can't even tell the person you exchanged vows with?"

Tajiri did not respond with words: instead, he stared into the man's eyes and gently stroked his chin, as if he were further contemplating the man's identity. After a few seconds of silence, the Japanese Buzzsaw's eyes lit up like he had just had an epiphany. It was clear that he not only knew who the man was, but he was former acquaintance of his.

"It's starting to come together, huh?" The man took note of Tajiri's change in facial expression before continuing. "I'm sure you understand the importance of this tournament, and how much of an honor it would be to win this. Therefore, you must not tell anyone about me...do you got that?"

Tajiri smirked and nodded his head once before turning around to leave the locker room. Whether or not he felt obligated to keep the Black Tiger's identity secret was something only he knew, but that didn't matter. As long as he knew who the man was, he could formulate a strategy around the man's previous matches and make his chances of advancing that much greater.

Black Tiger let out a sigh as he sat down on the bench and once again lost himself in thought. Even if he did win the tournament, sooner or later someone else would discover his identity, and his life would come crashing down on him. He would be fired from his promotion, his wife would be upset with him, and friends would not want to talk to him. He had placed himself in a hole that he could not crawl out of.

"The most I can do is fight on," he muttered to himself as he pulled up his wrestling singlet and took off his mask so he can stare at it one more time. "Not for my boss, not for my friends and family, and not even for the legacy of this mask: it has to be for me and me alone…"

--

_Elsewhere…_

"OK, just don't forget your end of the bargain!"

Hanging up his cell phone and handing it to his faithful wife, Booker let out a sigh as he rubbed his tired eyes. Even though there were only fifteen minutes left until the next match would be decided upon, his back was still in bad enough shape to warrant an ice-down. Fighting Mesias took up a lot of energy, and Booker knew that it was only going to get harder…

...and that was exactly why he had to take steps in making sure that he survived the next round so that he could move onto the final match and take his rightful place atop the wrestling world once again. "I have a good feeling about this, Sharmell," he told his wife as he let the precipitation from the bag of ice on his back drip down his torso. "It's going to be tough, but I think we should be able to get past this round…especially if we run into that ECW has-been Dreamer…"

"I don't doubt that, Booker," Sharmell said with a smile as she resumed massaging his shoulders. "However, I am a little bit worried that you've been talking about that man ever since he won his match. Does he really bother you that much?"

"I don't know why he gets on my nerves, my queen, but he just gets under my skin," Booker answered in a quiet, almost aggravated tone. "When I look at him, he's a run-down, out-of-shape doormat who can't let go of the past…and yet when he enters the ring, he suddenly comes alive as if he were still in his prime. I just can't figure him out, and that bothers me!"

"Maybe it's because his heart is in the right place."

Surprised by the unfamiliar voice, Booker and Sharmell turned their heads to the door and saw a medium-built Caucasian man wearing a pair of blue jeans and a green-and-purple tie-dye t-shirt with a black yin-yang splashed across the center. With his stringy brown hair tied back in a ponytail and a pair of shades covering his grinning face, the man walked over to the couple and knelt down next to Booker. "It's been a while, friend…"

"Yeah, it has been a while," Booker said with a nod of his head. "What brings you all the way out here, Rob?"

The man before him was Rob Van Dam, a fellow wrestler who had an illustrious career with both the original ECW and with WWE, not to mention his occasional excursions across the world. Using his athletic prowess and combining it with his likable nature, the man nicknamed "RVD" was an international sensation who captured the hearts and imaginations of both his fans and his opponents alike.

However, that time was in the past, and Rob Van Dam was now enjoying a well-earned break from the squared circle. As such, Booker had nothing to fear from this man, so there was no point in being hostile to him. "I managed to use some of my old connections to get me a backstage pass: I just wanted to check up on some old friends…like you, my former tag team partner."

"And I suppose you're also here for that upstart Tommy Dreamer," Sharmell added, not entirely sold on the notion that RVD had come there just to see Booker. "Tell me, are you here to help us…or thwart us on Booker's quest to become the champion?"

"Sharmell, that's enough," Booker raised his hand and quieted his wife before granting Rob a sincere smile. "So, Rob…have you come to ask me to put in a good work for you with the folks in TNA?"

"Nah," RVD shook his head before standing back up. "I just wanted wish you luck in your next match: if Dreamer is still in the tournament, then you're going to need all the luck you can get."

"Luck is going to have nothing to do it, and you know that," Booker's smile disappeared as the notion of his skills not being enough to handle Tommy Dreamer was brought up. "What makes Dreamer so special? He's been a WWE doormat for years now: what possessed the higher-ups to send him over the others?"

RVD let out a sigh as he crossed his arms, trying to find the words necessary to describe his old friend's strong point. Once he felt he had found the words, the ECW Original made his point. "Booker, you have everything anyone could ever want for in a wrestler: charisma, agility, power, the whole nine yards. But Tommy…Tommy has something in abundance that all legends have, and that is heart. As long as his fighting spirit still burns, he will continue to be a contender…and I know in my heart of hearts that someday he'll be a champion once again."

"Hey, I've got plenty of heart, too," Booker snapped back. "Did you see me back there? Any other person would have steered clear of that wacko Mesias, but I beat him like the fool he is. Don't tell me that Dreamer has heart, RVD…because I am more than capable of outdoing him in that aspect!"

"I'm sure you can, Book," RVD said with a smile before turning around and heading for the door. "Catch you later, old buddy," he lifted his hand and waved goodbye behind him as Booker lowered his head and contemplated his former tag partner's words. "I look forward to seeing that heart of yours get your through the next round."


	7. Tommy Dreamer vs Black Tiger

Stepping onto the entrance ramp once again as his music played over the sound system, Tommy Dreamer lifted his fist to the sound of wild cheers as he walked towards the ring. The intermission that he had been granted after his intense battle with BxB Hulk was just what he needed to refresh himself so he could bring that same intensity to the semifinal round of the Super J Cup.

Advancing past the first round of the Super J Cup was something that exceeded the expectations of many, including the board of directors at WWE. During the intermission, he received a call from Teddy Long congratulating him on his victory and passing on the praises that the board had for him. Not only had he survived the first round, but he had also gotten in touch with a hot prospect in BxB Hulk, who would no doubt capture the hearts of everyone within a WWE arena should he decide to talk further.

However, the main reason Tommy offered BxB Hulk a new avenue to take his career was because it was his job: his passion, on the other hand, lay in competing. If he could advance even further in the tournament, then his superiors would give him even more praise, and finally grant him another opportunity for the ECW title.

Stepping back into the ring and lifting his arm one more time, Dreamer turned to the entrance ramp and waited for his next opponent. While he was resting from his match with Hulk, Tommy also reviewed the matches of his three possible opponents and weighed what his battle strategy would be for each of them.

Tajiri was an ECW Original, just like he was, and he had seen his matches plenty of times in the past. He had learned some new tricks since his time in ECW, but his battle plan was still the same: confuse and trap the opponent into doing things that would put Tajiri on the offensive. As long as Dreamer played it smart, then he should be able to wear down the smaller man enough to achieve victory.

Booker T would not be so simple: like Dreamer, he had been in the business a long time. In fact, Booker had been doing this even longer than Dreamer had been doing it. That experience advantage, combined with his power, agility, and conditioning, made him a very troublesome opponent. Despite this, Tommy had an obligation to defeat the five-time WCW champion: after the insults he had to put up with the first time they ran into each other in Japan, he was more than willing to make him eat his words about him being a "has-been."

Black Tiger, on the other hand, was still a question mark: thanks to the mask he wore, it was impossible to compare him to other wrestlers Dreamer had watched in the past. However, Tommy had a gut feeling that somehow he had seen Black Tiger before: the way he finished off Chris Masters was vaguely familiar. Until he could determine where he had seen the move before, Tommy would have to be exceptionally wary of him.

With those three opponents fresh in his mind, Tommy licked his lips in anticipation. Whoever his opponent would be, he would no doubt be a wrestler of the highest caliber to have survived the first round. That kind of challenge was what he thrived upon more than anything else, and was now only a few seconds away from meeting that challenge head-on.

The challenge made its presence itself known via a ferocious roar, followed by a rapid guitar riff transitioned into a techno-metal beat. Stepping out onto the entrance ramp and immediately marching down towards the ring, the next competitor glared at Tommy with an intensity seen by those who were about to compete for a world championship.

Out of the three possible opponents, Tommy was given the one that he knew the least about: even if he remembered where he saw that peculiar submission move, it still wouldn't change the fact that he had never gotten into the ring with this man. If he did, he would have remembered the move instantly.

"Too late worrying about it now," he mumbled as Black Tiger stepped into the squared circle and rolled his shoulders around. "It wouldn't be the first time the odds were stacked against me, and it won't be the last."

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the Super J Cup," the announcer formally greeted the crowd as he stepped into the ring along after Black Tiger. "When the night began, eight men were competing for the prestigious Super J Cup: now, only four are left. Who will live? Who will die? The answer will be revealed to us in a moment."

"Standing to my left," the announcer lifted his free arm and pointed it in Tommy's direction, "representing World Wrestling Entertainment, from Yonkers, New York. He stands at 1.88 meters and 116 kilograms…and is the heart and soul of Extreme Championship Wrestling: TOMMY DREAMER!"

The "E-See-Daboru" chants echoed throughout the arena once again, and Tommy acknowledged the gesture by gently beating his left hand against his chest and using the same hand to point to the crowd. No matter what happened, whether he won or lost, the crowd would be with him and he would make sure his final match in the tournament would be a memorable one.

"Standing to my right," the announcer kept his free arm outstretched as he twirled around so that it was facing the masked wrestler opposite of Tommy. "He stands at 1.88 meters and weighing in at 110 kilograms…BLACK TIGER!"

Black Tiger remained motionless in spite of the huge pop he received upon having his name officially announced. His eyes were a raging inferno of determination and lust for combat: even from where he was standing, Tommy could sense the man's resolve. "You want to win just as badly as I do," he said as the referee stepped into the ring and walked between the two men. "Sorry, but I'm not about to lie down for you."

The referee explained to them that the rules were pretty much the same as they were in the first round: a winner was decided by pinfall, submission, knockout, disqualification, or count-out. However, a new stipulation was added to this round: a thirty-minute time limit: when the time limit expired, the match would be stopped and the referee would confer with other officials to determine a winner.

"It won't take that long," Black Tiger suddenly added, surprising both the referee and Dreamer. "I'll take you out long before time is up…"

"Is that right?" Dreamer responded as Black Tiger leaned forward and pressed his forehead against his. Now staring face-to-face with the man whose intensity and passion for wrestling rivaled his own, the Innovator of Violence made a promise of his own. "Well, I have no intention of letting this go on for thirty minutes, either. If you think you can take me down, then go ahead!"

DING!

**Semfinal match 1: Tommy Dreamer (WWE) vs Black Tiger (N/A)**

The instant the bell rang, Tommy and Black Tiger immediately grabbed onto each other's shoulders and tried to overpower their opponent using their brute force. Like a violent waltz, the two of them traveled across the ring as their struggle continued, until Black Tiger managed to get Tommy's back against the ropes. The masked grappler continued to push down on his opponent, forcing him to bend his back against the ropes and grit his teeth in pain.

Before the referee could separate the two men, Tommy fought back with a swift headbutt to Black Tiger's face. Dazing the unaffiliated fighter momentarily, Tommy broke out of the hold and began pushing Tiger back with swift punches to the face. After the seventh punch, Dreamer once again went for the ropes and bounced off of them so he could get some momentum for a running attack.

However, Black Tiger recovered in time to snatch the oncoming Dreamer off of his feet by his groin and shoulders just as he was about to unleash his attack, and then slam him back onto the mat with a snap scoop power slam. Keeping Dreamer pinned to the mat, Black Tiger hoped to end the match early as the referee got onto his belly and began the three-count.

Quickly pushing Black Tiger off of him right after "one," Tommy scrambled back onto his feet and performed his own scoop powerslam just as his opponent charged at him with violent intent. Bringing his foe down to the mat with such thunderous force that the crowd responded with a pained "oooh," the ECW Original held Black Tiger down as much as he could as the referee started the three-count, but his opponent kicked out before the one-count.

The two combatants hurriedly returned to their feet and shot each other a look of raw intensity, and almost hint of curiosity. Dreamer now knew for certain that he had never tangled with this man before, and the prospect of fighting an unknown opponent wearing the prestigious Black Tiger mask made his pupils dilate and his breath haggard with excitement.

Furthermore, Black Tiger had never encountered the Innovator of Violence. Even within the confines of his concealed identity, the man's love for wrestling shone brighter than a star. Some people may have considered Tommy a washed-up wrestler looking for one last chance to come out on top, but Black Tiger knew better.

This tournament had awoken a beast within both of them, and it could only be tamed through victory.

With that realization in both of their minds, Tommy and Black Tiger approached each other more cautiously, and outstretched their hands for the fabled "test of strength." Locking their fingers around their opponent's outstretched hand, the two men did the same with their other hand and locked into a grapple, pushing down on their opponent once again in an attempt to get an advantage.

After a few seconds of being deadlocked in an even struggle, Black Tiger's leg sprang forward and kicked the unprotected Tommy in the stomach, forcing him to pull back and grip his attacked midsection in pain. Seeing his opportunity, Black Tiger spun around behind Dreamer and locked his fingers together around his waist in preparation for one of his many suplex variations.

Realizing what was about to happen, Tommy twisted his leg around Black Tiger's, thus preventing him from performing the suplex. With that disaster averted, the Innovator of Violence quickly thrusted his elbow backwards and into Black Tiger's face, stunning him but not quite forcing him to break his hold. It took a total of four elbow strikes until his opponent relinquished his grip and backed away in pain.

In an act of fair play, Tommy turned around and grabbed onto both of Black Tiger's arms. Tucking the arms underneath his opponent's legs to pull him upwards like a yo-yo, the Innovator of Violence lived up to his nickname by slamming Black Tiger back onto the mat onto his back using a creative pumphandle suplex.

Black Tiger quickly stood back up and parried Tommy's oncoming punch with one arm, and countered with other using stiff elbows to bash the ECW Original's face. After the third elbow, the masked wrestler placed Tommy in a double-underhook lock and flipped him over his head for a butterfly suplex.

Before the referee could check whether or not Tommy's shoulders were on that mat so he could begin the three-count, the ECW Original pulled away from the double-underhook lock and scrambled back onto his feet. Realizing that he had managed to get back up before his opponent, Tommy fell forward and dropped an elbow across his foe's chest.

Black Tiger let out a shout of pain as the bony appendage thumped against his stiff chest. However, the pain was not intense enough for him to consider lying down enough for Tommy to get a pin attempt. Grabbing onto Tommy's arm while he was still on the ground, Black Tiger rolled across Dreamer's body to put him in a horizontal hammerlock, stretching the abdominal muscle and preventing him from escaping.

Tommy's veteran instincts kicked in as he realized how close he was to the ropes, and quickly reached out to grab one of them so he could get out of the predicament he was in. Wrapping his fingers around the rope and holding on tight, Tommy grit his teeth as Black Tiger tightened his hammerlock while he listened to the referee's rambling about letting go of Tommy.

Doing as he was told, albeit begrudgingly, Black Tiger stood up and let go of Tommy's arm before stomping on his prone body a few times. After the fifth stomp, Black Tiger lifted Tommy back onto his feet by his head and flipped him over his shoulder using a quick snapmare. Once he had done that and Tommy was on his buttocks, Black Tiger kicked Tommy's hard in the back and elicited a shout of pain from the man.

As soon as Tommy stumbled back onto his feet while gripping his back in pain, Black Tiger latched onto his arm and hurled him towards the nearest turnbuckle with an Irish Whip. Heading to the opposite turnbuckle so he could gain enough momentum, the masked wrestler charged at Tommy with his fist raised. Realizing he had to do something or else have the full brunt of Black Tiger's hardened body crash into him, Tommy quickly moved to the left and dodged the charging grappler as he crashed into the hard turnbuckle.

With Black Tiger stunned from the collision, Tommy ducked down and pulled Black Tiger back down to the mat with a roll-up pin. Unfortunately, Black Tiger escaped that predicament just as the referee counted to "two" by kicking out and rolling away. Quickly pressing onwards, Tommy crawled towards his opponent and disrupted his footing with a double-leg takedown and once again went for a pinfall.

Using his impressive upper-body strength, Black Tiger lifted himself upwards until his body was a fleshy bridge, and then wrapped his arm around Tommy to put him in a guillotine choke. With no ropes within reaching distance, a smile formed on Black Tiger's face as he felt victory come just a bit closer than the move before.

However, he was soon reminded of Tommy's indomitable fighting spirit, as the Innovator of Violence dragged Black Tiger with him as he instinctively headed for the nearest rope and wrapped his hand around it. With a grunt of frustration, Black Tiger reluctantly broke the hold and resumed stomping on Tommy's body.

Sometimes in between the fifth and sixth's stomps, however, Tommy wisened up to Black Tiger's kicks and caught the attacking leg. With one leg in his grasp, the Innovator of Violence reached for the other and tripped the masked wrestler once again. Rather than go for a pinfall, however, Tommy instead turned Black Tiger over on his back and placed him in a Cloverleaf hold, applying pressure to the mysterious pugilist's legs and lower back.

On the better side of a submission situation for the first time since the match started, Tommy lowered his body and applied the full brunt of his weight on Black Tiger's back, bending him in ways that no person should have been bent. Tommy had timed the move well: even though they were at the very edge of the ring, it was in a way so that Tommy was facing the ropes and the closest escape Black Tiger had was the other side of the ring.

"I'm not going to accept this," Black Tiger shouted as he turned his head and saw another possible escape route. "I'm not going to lose to you of all people!"

Twisting his body in spite of the obvious pain it caused him, Black Tiger scratched and crawled to his left, slowly dragging Tommy along with him. The Innovator of Violence strained as the man who was more or less his equal in strength struggled to break out of the submission hold, so he intensified the pressure and elicited a shout of agony from his opponent.

"I'm not going to go home like this," he muttered to himself as he continued his long and painful journey to the left set of ropes. "I would never hear the end of Shelton's teasing if I lose to someone like you!"

That phrase, which was loud enough for him to hear, was enough to startle Dreamer enough for Black Tiger to quicken his acceleration towards the ropes and grab on. The referee noticed this, and quickly warned Tommy that if he did not break the hold by the time he counted to five, he would be disqualified from the tournament.

However, Tommy had no qualms with breaking the hold, as opposed to the begrudging manner that Black Tiger let go of his holds. Watching his opponent take deep and concentrated breaths as his legs and lower back were finally relieved of their pressure caused by the Cloverleaf, Tommy resumed his fighting stance and prepared to alter his course of attack.

He now knew what he had to do in order to win, so long as his opponent was who he thought he was.

Once Black Tiger stood back up, Tommy once again used his powerful fists to pummel the masked wrestler's head with devastating left and right punches. Whenever Black Tiger tried to guard his temples, Tommy would instead strike the face, and when Black Tiger covered his face, he'd go for his temples.

Feeling that he had softened up his opponent enough, Tommy quickly ran past Black Tiger and bounced off of the ropes to slingshot back towards his foe and drive his face into the mat with a one-handed bulldog. Lifting the man up by pulling on his mask, the ECW Original once again attacked the head by putting him in an inverted facelock and falling down with the back of his opponent's skull being driven into the mat with a reverse DDT.

With his foe stunned from the maneuver, Tommy took a brief moment to cater to the crowd by outstretching his arms and letting out a loud shout of defiance and fury. The crowd responded by erupting into cheers as he turned back around to see Black Tiger stumble back onto his feet only to fall right back down as Dreamer floored him with a stiff clothesline to the face.

Rising back up so he could pay his opponent back for the head shots he had taken, Black Tiger blocked Tommy's follow-up clothesline and grabbed onto his foe's head. Using his entire head as a weapon, the already-dazed Black Tiger rammed his skull into Tommy's a total of four times. The quartet of headbutts brought Tommy all the way back to the turnbuckle that was behind him, and the masked wrestler pressed onward by taking Dreamer down with a double-leg takedown as soon as he bounced off that turnbuckle.

Instead of going for a pinfall that would probably be broken out of, Black Tiger instead climbed up the same turnbuckle that Dreamer was lying a few feet away from. Carefully ascending to the top so his spinning vision would not disrupt him, Black Tiger looked out the crowd and ran his thumb across his throat, signaling what he hoped would be a successful and crucial moonsault.

However, he spent so much time trying to get to the top rope, that he didn't notice Tommy stand up behind him and disrupt his footing. Landing squarely on his groin, Black Tiger let out a shout of pain as he fell over with his feet still trapped against the top rope, leaving him to dangle upside down like a slab of beef at a butcher's shop.

With an evil grin across his bearded face, Tommy sauntered over to the opposite turnbuckle where Black Tiger was hanging and lifted his fist for the crowd to see. Channeling the spirit of his beloved organization within his soul, the Innovator of Violence emphasized each initial with the pounding of his chest as he bellowed out the name of that organization.

"E! C! W!"

The spirit of Extreme Championship Wrestling once again came alive in the Budokan Hall as Dreamer charged towards the upside-down Black Tiger and planted both his feet into his face using a running baseball slide. The baseball slide was so impactful and devastating that it freed the masked wrestler from the Tree of Woe and caused him to fall flat onto his face with the rest of his body landing with a thud.

Pulling his opponent to the center of the ring, Tommy covered the masked wrestler and watched as the referee began the three-count. Just when it seemed that Tommy had attained victory, however, Black Tiger suddenly lifted his shoulder up and saved his chances of qualifying for the next round.

Snapping his fingers in frustration as he sat back up, the Innovator of Violence lifted Black Tiger off of the ground and placed him in a fireman's carry in preparation for one of his most powerful techniques, the Dreamer Driver. If he could land that, then there would be no need to implement whatever plan he had to deal with the mysterious wrestler in his grasp.

However, Black Tiger was not about to let his head be driven into the mat, as he struggled violently to get out of the fireman's carry. Ramming his elbow into the side of Dreamer's head as hard as he could, Black Tiger forced his opponent drop him so that he could protect himself: something that Black Tiger capitalized on by once again locking his fingers across Tommy's waist and dropping him onto his back with a belly-to-belly suplex.

Once he did that, Black Tiger lifted Tommy off the ground and performed a second belly-to-belly suplex that further damaged the back of the Innovator Violence. With one final belly-to-belly upon standing back up, the masked grappler flung Tommy across the ring like a rag doll and felt his chances of winning go back up as a result.

Black Tiger quickly scrambled for Dreamer's fallen body and hooked his legs, hoping that he would be able to achieve victory after his triplet of suplexes. However, Tommy lifted his shoulder up just as "three" was about to be called, and Black Tiger let out a shout of frustration while he angrily shoved his elbow into Dreamer's face.

Tommy rolled over on his belly to try and shield himself from Black Tiger's elbow, but he was relentless in his quest for victory. Standing back up and crossing one his legs over Tommy's, Black Tiger stood on the crossed leg to create a type of standing inverted figure-four leg lock. Once that was cinched in, Black Tiger took the free leg and fell flat on his back, lifting Tommy into the air and causing the Innovator of Violence excruciating pain in the lower back and legs.

However, Black Tiger had been so bent on winning the match that he forgot where he was in the ring. All Tommy had to do to break out of the hold was reach out and grab for the nearby ropes, which did not sit well with the masked wrestler at all as he broke his hold and mercilessly stomped on the fallen ECW Original before the referee pulled them apart.

"I know that move," Tommy mumbled as he stumbled back to his feet and leaned back against the ropes to catch his breath. "That's the Haas of Pain…and there's only one guy I know who does that move."

Seeing Black Tiger come at him with his fist raised, Tommy rolled to the right to allow his foe to collide with the stiff ropes and groan in pain. Seeing his opportunity to execute his plan, the Innovator of Violence grabbed onto the sides of the Black Tiger mask and yanked it off like a cork of a bottle, revealing the surprised face of one American wrestler that Dreamer was quite familiar with: Charlie Haas of World Wrestling Entertainment.

"My mask," the man gasped as he felt his face and realized his mask was gone. Turning around to see that his foe had it in his hand, Charlie lunged for his possession like his life depended on it. "Give me back my mask!"

As soon as Haas came within grabbing distance of the mask, however, Tommy quickly wrapped his arm around his opponent's head and fell over backwards an instant after doing so, using Haas' charging momentum against him and driving his skull into the mat with a thunderous Dreamer DDT. Rolling his near-unconscious quarry over onto his back, Tommy quickly covered the man as the referee counted.

One. Two. Three!

"The winner at 14:56, TOMMY DREAMER!"

After a good five seconds of the two of them lying perfectly still safe for steady breathing, Charlie quickly tossed his conqueror off of him and snatched the mask away from Tommy's hand. Once he did that, he quickly rolled out of the ring and hurriedly stumbled to the back, trying frantically to put his mask back on.

"Charlie, wait up," Tommy shouted as he waved to the crowd before hurrying after his opponent. There were questions that he wanted to ask him, and he would not be denied now that he would be one of the final two men in the tournament. "Hey, Charlie!"

--  
_Backstage, forty-five seconds later…_

"CHARLIE!"

Finally catching up to the man he had just defeated, Tommy walked into a locker room that Charlie was currently renovating via tossing about garbage cans and denting lockers via stiff kicks. "Charlie, calm down," Tommy said sternly, causing Charlie to turn his head. "What are you doing here, man? WWE is only supposed to have one competitor: we could get disqualified for this!"

"I know that," Charlie shouted back as he sat down on a bench and let out a sigh. "I'm not competing here as a WWE wrestler, though…the board of directors didn't even know I had any intention of competing, at least not before you unmasked me live via satellite…"

"What are you talking about, man?"

Taking a deep breath an attempt to regain control of himself, the former member of the self-proclaimed World's Greatest Tag Team explained his story. "I've been here for about a week: RAW GM Mike Adamle sent me to scout talent during the tournament. About a day after I came here, I met one of the tournament participants: some kid from CHIKARA who was about to make his debut as the Black Tiger."

"…was it Colin Delaney?" Dreamer asked curiosity, wondering if the boy that he once took under his wing only to be betrayed by him had resurfaced in his old promotion.

"No, it wasn't him, and he told me to keep his name a secret," Charlie answered before continuing. "Anyway, I agreed to spar with him until it was time for the tournament, but two days ago he dislocated his shoulder during practice, and the doctor said he wouldn't be able to compete." Taking his mask off and staring at it for a bit, Charlie finished his story. "He wanted me to compete in his place: the Black Tiger must not back down from a fight, he said. So without telling anyone else, I entered the tournament and became the new Black Tiger…"

"What made you decide to do it? Did you just feel sorry for the guy?"

"The guy had a genuine passion for the business, and I've always loved wearing masks," Charlie answered with a shrug before starting to tremble. "What am I going to do, Tommy? Someone was bound to have seen me out there: I could get fired for this!"

"I'll make sure that you don't, Charlie," Tommy replied with utmost seriousness. "As soon as we get back home, I'll talk to Teddy and make sure that you stay employed. Even if you get fired from RAW, I'll make sure that ECW will pick you right back up."

"How are you going to promise that?" Charlie asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "We've been the doormats of our respective brands for years now. How is anyone going to take us seriously!?"

"Because I'm going to win this tournament for them," Tommy answered, causing Charlie to turn his head and raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "At first I came here to scout talent just like you were…but now I'm going to win, so that we can both be taken for face value!"


	8. Booker T vs Tajiri

_Can you dig it, suckaaaaa!?_

Stepping out alone onto the entrance ramp, Booker T stuck his open palm in front of his face and performed his trademark head bobble before springing off of his feet while a loud explosion of sparks erupted from the ramp to herald his arrival. Now that he knew who the final obstacle would be in his quest to become the champion of the Super J Cup, the former King of the Ring asked his wife Sharmell to stay in the back. He had to send a message to his future opponent, and he could not do that if his wife was watching.

Tommy Dreamer was the Innovator of Violence: when someone pushed his buttons enough, he became an engine of malice and sadism that made Booker's previous opponent El Mesias seem like an alter boy in comparison. If Booker was to show him that he meant business, he would have to decimate his next opponent in a swift-but-painful manner.

Stepping into the ring and taking a deep breath, Booker tightened his gloves and turned back to the entrance ramp with a look of intensity in his eyes. His old tag team partner Rob Van Dam's words bothered him: his heart was always in the right place, and that was what led to him conquering such foes as the Big Show, Kurt Angle, and Stone Cold Steve Austin. Despite this, RVD chuckled at his stating of that, as if he found it amusing.

Was there something he was missing? If there was, Booker would make sure he'd find that fire again by defeating his next opponent…and there was only one possible foe he could face this late in the tournament.

The arena darkened and a long, howling "yo" usually reserved for Japanese theater pierced the brief silence that fell over the crowd, followed by a quick succession of guitar riffs and a flute playing a simple tune that overlapped the guitars. The crowd quickly recognized the music and exploded into cheers as the final remaining competitor of the second round stepped onto the entrance ramp.

"Tajiri," Booker mumbled as the Japanese Buzzsaw zigzagged across the ramp to slap hands with the fans before gracefully sliding into the ring. Turning to see the announcer and referee enter the ring, Booker took a few steps back as Tajiri walked towards the center of the ring. "I've beaten him before, and I'll beat him again!"

"Standing to my left," the announcer outstretched his hand to Booker and re-introduced him to the crowd that was already familiar with him, "representing Total Nonstop Action, from Houston, Texas. Standing at 1.91 meters and 115 kilograms…he is a thirty-three time champion…BOOKER T!" Booker lifted his pinky for the crowd to see without breaking his gaze on Tajiri: he had a purpose in this match, and he wasn't about to let the gravity of the situation get to his head.

"Standing to my right," the announcer spun around and pointed towards Tajiri, and the crowd responded accordingly by slowly starting to cheer, "representing HUSTLE, from Tokyo, Japan! Standing at 1.75 meters and 95 kilograms…he is the Japanese Buzzsaw, TAJIRI!"

As soon as Tajiri lifted his fist an acknowledgement to the crowd's praise, Booker let out a ferocious shout and charged towards the Japanese Buzzsaw with violent intent burning his eyes. The referee, abandoning concern for his well-being in favor of keeping the match pure and clean, quickly got between the two men before fists could be thrown and quickly explained the rules to them.

"Pinfall, submission, and all that jazz," Booker interjected, itching for a fight. "Hurry up and ring that damn bell!"

DING!

**Semifinal match 2: Booker T(TNA) vs Tajiri (HUSTLE)**

Before Booker could get his hands on his opponent upon having his request to start the match granted, Tajiri backflipped away to put some distance between him and his foe. "Stand your ground, fool," Booker shouted as he assumed his fighting stance and approached Tajiri more warily now that the element of surprise was gone. "This is the Super J Cup: act like a semifinalist and not like some scared kid!"

Not one to keep his opponent waiting for long, Tajiri charged towards Booker and latched onto him like a leech. Once he did that, he snaked around his body like a cobra in an attempt to disorient his foe enough to unleash one of his more powerful techniques. However, Booker managed to grab hold of his legs and slammed his back into the mat like a throw rug using a tilt-a-whirl flapjack spinebuster.

With his eyes wide with intensity and rage, Booker glared at the writhing Tajiri and started to harass him with slap to the face as he tried to get back up. "Come on, Tajiri," Booker taunted Tajiri as he sent him stumbling backwards with a high-impact palm strike to the face. "Come on and make me sweat!"

Tajiri responded to the slap with a high-striking knee to Booker's chin, followed by a rapid series of knife-edged chops that sent Booker stumbling all the way back to the ropes. Latching onto Booker's arm, Tajiri tried to hurl him to the other side of the ring using an Irish whip, but the savvy veteran kept hold of Tajiri's arm and used it to hold him still as he lifted his leg and kicked Tajiri in the face.

Stunned from the power of such a kick, Tajiri took a few steps back while rubbing his jaw in pain. However, his sudden rush of offense had angered Booker enough for him to walk after Tajiri and bring down his fists onto his back like falling hammers. Each blow elicited a shout of pain from the smaller man, and each shout of pain caused Booker to intensify his blows.

After the fifth back blow, Booker lifted Tajiri off the ground and held him at his hip like a human purse before falling into a sitting position and driving his foe's back into the mat with a sidewalk slam. Once he did that, Booker quickly flipped back onto his feet and stomped on Tajiri's back several times before the Japanese Buzzsaw finally gained the where-with-all to roll backwards and stumble back onto his feet.

Not in the mood for anything fancy against such an intense opponent, Tajiri dodged Booker's next punch and countered with a low kick to the shin, followed by several others that alternated between Booker's left and right legs. After the blazing fury concluded at eight kicks, Tajiri jumped up and mashed Booker's face in with a double-leg drop kick.

It was clear that Booker intended to end the match early, and Tajiri wasn't about to let his former WWE colleague leave the match disappointed. Winding back in preparation for his Buzzsaw kick as the former King of the Ring fell onto one knee in an attempt to catch his breath, Tajiri smiled as the crowd cheered for him. This was his home, and he wasn't about to let Booker spoil his fun.

"Hey, wanker: look behind you!"

Hearing a familiar English accent shout behind him, Tajiri turned around to see his opponent from the previous round, Nigel McGuinness, jump over the barricade that separated the fans from the action and then run up to the edge of the ring. With his dark blue leather jacket flowing behind him, the Ring of Honor representative motioned for Tajiri to come at him before spitting in his direction. "You and I have unfinished business!"

Rather than respond to his nemesis' taunts with words or strikes, Tajiri opted to return the favor Nigel did to him and spit in his face and unleashed the same stream of green mist that propelled him to victory in their match. Not one to fall for the same mistake twice, Nigel lifted his arm and blocked the mist from spraying on his face, and then jumped down to put some distance between him and Tajiri.

When Tajiri turned back around to focus on the match, however, Booker was there waiting for him. Putting him in a side headlock and dragging him back into the ring, Booker bashed Tajiri's face with a quartet of knee lifts before altering his hold so he could kick Tajiri in the stomach. With Tajiri kneeling over in pain, Booker ran backwards and ricocheted off the ropes that were behind him and took to the air just as he was about to collide with his foe. Once he did so, he lifted his right leg high into the air and brought the full weight of it down on the back of Tajiri's neck with his most powerful technique: the Scissors Kick.

With Tajiri falling over in recoil from such a technique, Booker quickly covered the wily man and forcefully bobbed his head with the rhythm of the referee's three count, counting along with him in the process. "ONE! TWO! THREE!"

"The winner by pinfall at 1:58, BOOKER T!"

For the first time since the tournament started, the crowd unleashed a loud and unified "boo," expressing their displeasure for the less-than-honorable way Booker achieved victory. Two athletes of Booker and Tajiri's caliber had the potential to put an engaging and entertaining match with one another, but instead Booker relied on unsavory tactics with a quick and easy win.

With Nigel quickly scrambling back into the ring, Booker stood back up and allowed the Englishman to quick the fallen Tajiri several times as he snatched the microphone from the announcer's hands. "Thomas," Booker screamed into the mic over the sound of boos and jeers. "Pay attention, dog: I know you can hear me back there!"

Turning his head to see Nigel lift Tajiri back up and place him in a sleeper hold to keep him from struggling too much, Booker continued his speech. "With this victory, you and I are going to be tangling in the final round for the honor to be called the champion of the Super J Cup! However, I can't seem to figure out how you got this far!"

"I keep hearing things about heart and soul, but that obviously hasn't helped you too much in WWE," Booker said with a thin smirk forming across his face. "While you were toiling on Sunday Night Heat, I was in the middle of an intense rivalry with the legendary Stone Cold Steve Austin. While you were going from desk job to desk job in the company, I was winning title after title. While you were getting your butt kicked by the Great Khali, I was the King of Smackdown, and the World Heavyweight Champion!"

Pausing for a moment to let his words sink in, Booker took a deep breath and resumed talking. "However, in spite of how there is no reason for you to be here, WWE picked you over all of the other big-name talent they have to represent them in this tournament…when in truth, the only thing you've ever done worthwhile in this business came from your time in the original ECW." Turning around to see the fading Tajiri, Booker pointed to the Japanese Buzzsaw for the fans to see. "Tajiri here is an ECW Original, just like you are, Thomas. In spite of that, I beat him without any problem at all!"

"But since you are probably not going to pay that kind of victory any mind, since my friend Nigel here 'distracted' Tajiri when he could have just as easily ignored him," Booker looked to Nigel and nodded his head once, signaling for the Englishman to let the Japanese Buzzsaw fall to the ground and gasp for air, "he is going to demonstrate what I am going to be doing to you in the next round."

With that audio cue recognized, Nigel quickly took off his jacket to reveal what he had been hiding: his left arm was entirely wrapped in barbed wire, with gauss tape protecting the arm from its slicing properties. With Nigel's unique weapon made apparent for the entire crowd to see, Booker quickly lifted Tajiri up by his hair and took a few steps back as Nigel ran for the ropes.

Performing a quick flip between the top and middle ropes before landing back on his feet, Nigel used the bouncing momentum of the flip to his advantage and charged towards Tajiri with violent intent burning in his eyes. Weary from the beating he took minutes earlier and the sleeper hold he was put in only seconds earlier, Tajiri was unable to do anything except sprawl backwards in the wake of Nigel's truck-like Jawbreaker Lariat that wrapped around Tajiri's head like a baseball bat.

"I told you that you should have lied down back then," Nigel screamed as he lifted Tajiri back up by his neck, noticing the blood that was trickling from his forehead thanks to the barb wire that sliced his flesh upon impact. "Do you regret your decision now, mate? See what happens when you don't lie down for greatness!?"

With his eyes suddenly shooting open, Tajiri kicked Nigel in the shin and forced him to let go of him. Before Tajiri could do anything more, however, Booker kicked him from behind in the back and elicited a shout of pain from the HUSTLE representative. This gave the opportunity for Nigel to floor Tajiri once again with another devastating lariat.

No longer in the mood for taunting, Nigel angrily lifted Tajiri back up by the ends of his hair and spat in his face. When Tajiri returned the favor by spitting in his face, however, the Englishman delivered a swift headbutt to Tajiri's forehead and shoved him all the way to the bottom-right turnbuckle that had been several feet away from them.

As Tajiri howled in pain as the hard turnbuckle crashed against his previously-targeted spinal area, Nigel reared back his barbed arm and delivered a sickening knife-edged chop to his nemesis' chest. Not only was it particularly impactful, but the barbs pierced Tajiri's flesh to a point where Nigel had to actually take a moment to pull the barbs out of him.

A second chop was delivered with even more impact, slicing Tajiri's flesh further and leaving his chest raw and bloody. Rather than immediately pull back for another chop, Nigel rubbed his barbed arm against the targeted area like a janitor scrubbing a stain off the floor. However, Tajiri's pride kept him from screaming in agony, instead gritting his teeth so as not to give his nemesis satisfaction.

As the rubbing continued, Booker slipped out under the ring and lifted the apron up to see if he could find something he could use to join in on the fun. If the ring was anything like the many other rings Booker had wrestled in, then the underbelly of it should be filled with all sorts of nasty goodies that could be used to torture an opponent. After a few seconds of rummaging, Booker found something to his liking: a long wooden kendo stick that he pulled out and held up for the crowd to see.

Sliding back into the ring as Nigel resumed chopping Tajiri, Booker was about to command him to step back so he could have a shot when a familiar rock beat echoed throughout the corridors of Budokan Hall. Coming down the entrance ramp at a full run was the object of Booker T's ire: the Super J Cup finalist Tommy Dreamer. "It's about damn time," Booker shouted as Tommy slid into the ring. "Let's give these fans a preview of what's in store for you!"

Like a batter trying for a home run, Booker spun around and tried to smash Tommy's face in with a wild swing of his kendo stick. To his surprise, Tommy actually caught the weapon between his hands and tugged on it in to try and disarm his foe. The two men struggled and pulled in a tug-of-war to see who would be the next wielder of the kendo stick, until Tommy kicked Booker in the shin and yanked it away from him at last.

Booker wasted no time to get out of harm's way, rolling under the ropes to avoid Tommy's swing and heading back up the entrance ramp to the sound of boos. He would have the chance to avenge his honor in the final round of the tournament, so there was really no need to attack the Innovator of Violence. After all, the message had been delivered, and that was Booker's intention the moment he learned that Dreamer had advanced to the second round.

Nigel, however, had no such reservations: he had already been eliminated from the tournament, thanks to the bloody mess of the man that he had delivered his ninth chop to. Letting Tajiri fall flat on his face, Nigel turned around to face the hardcore hero Tommy Dreamer. Once he did that, he lifted his non-barbed hand and raised his middle finger. "You want some of this, has-been? Come and get it!"

With their weapons in hand, Tommy and Nigel clashed for the first time in their careers, albeit not in an official match. With his kendo stick blocking Nigel's arm, Tommy used his size advantage to push down the Englishman and cause him to land flat on his back. Using his foot to keep his quarry still, Tommy lifted his weapon and applied to Nigel's face repeatedly.

After the sixth swing, the kendo stick splintered and became useless as a striking weapon, so Tommy threw it aside and took a few steps back to think of what else he could do to his quarry. However, the damage had been done: Nigel's face was now wearing a crimson mask of bodily fluid, and this mask clearly affected his vision and he had trouble getting back onto his feet and seeing where Tommy had gone.

Hearing the sound of footsteps approach him, Nigel let out a ferocious yell and used his barbed arm to try and take off Tommy's head, but the Innovator of Violence easily ducked the lariat and countered with a thunderous DDT that drove Nigel's head to the mat. The crowd roared their approval of the dispatching of this dishonorable thug with a loud chorus chanting "E-See-Daboru! E-See-Daboru!"

Nigel's adrenaline rush, combined with the rage and fire of his fighting spirit, kept him from staying down long, and he groggily stood back up and wiped the blood from his forehead to try and clear his vision. "Is that all you got, you bloody bumpkin?" Nigel taunted, though his voice was haggard with fatigue. "Come on…I'm still standing, damn it!"

Feeling a gentle tapping on his shoulder, Nigel darted around to see not the ECW Original he was looking to damage, but the ECW Original that he had already damaged. With a look of pure malice and rage, the bloody Tajiri spun around and floored Nigel with a powerful Buzzsaw kick to the side of his head. The already loud cheers of the arena reached fever pitch as a result, their hometown hero rising from the ashes to emerge triumphant.

Tommy, on the other hand, was at the side of the ring rummaging underneath the apron to find something else to inflict pain on the upstart Englishman. Pulling out a red "stop" sign that had been one of his signature tools of destruction for over a decade, the Innovator of Violence slid it in the ring and gave Tajiri a simple but brutal command. "You know what to do, Tajiri: let him have it!"

Nodding his head in acknowledgement, Tajiri positioned the Stop sign on the mat and tried to lift the ROH representative over his head with a vertical suplex. Just as Nigel was fully off the mat, however, he spat in Tajiri's eye and forced the Japanese Buzzsaw to let go of him before he could deliver what would have been a devastating Brainbuster onto the stop sign. Instead of attacking Tajiri some more, Nigel decided he had enough and quickly slid out of the ring and stumbled up the entrance ramp where Booker had watched the whole debacle.

Tommy stepped back into the ring, picking up the microphone that Booker had left when he retreated from the ring. "Booker T," Dreamer shouted, his voice haggard with rage and frustration. "I let you make fun of me back at the airport because I'm used to that: as you said, people treat me like a doormat and I've grown used to being underestimated!"

Looking to see Tajiri fall flat on his buttocks in an attempt to catch his breath as his second wind left him, Tommy continued his monologue. "But if you try to get to me by attacking my friends and colleagues, then you better believe I'm going to kick your ass all over the arena! You want to know why I've come this far: it's because I have something you don't…and that's the heart and soul of ECW!"

"I may not have catapulted to mega-stardom upon entering WWE, but what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger," Dreamer walked over to the barrier and his speech reached a loud roar. The "E-See-Daboru" chants returned as a result, and even the battered Tajiri stood back up and joined in on the chant. Realizing that the fans that had been so kind to him for so many years was behind him, Tommy concluded his challenge and tossed his microphone aside. "In fifteen minutes, Booker T, you're going to see just why they call me the Innovator of Violence! I'll be waiting here until then!"


	9. Booker T vs Tommy Dreamer

For fourteenth straight minutes, Tommy Dreamer sat perfectly still in the center of the ring. Tajiri had managed to stumble back to the locker room on his own accord, but that didn't change that fact that he had been robbed of his honor and his place in the tournament. Had Nigel McGuinness not interfered with his match, it would have been Tajiri who would be facing Tommy in the final round.

Instead, Tommy would be going up against Booker T: someone who outshone him in almost every category.

Sometimes, Tommy would rely purely on his brute strength to overpower his opponents when he would not be allowed to use his hardcore experience to his advantage. When that didn't work, he would rely on his veteran instincts to carry him through the match. He would be unable to do that against Booker T, who was better conditioned, better trained, and had been in the business longer than he had.

The only thing Tommy really had to work with was the heart and soul of Extreme Championship Wrestling.

While Booker T enjoyed much success in the much bigger World Championship Wrestling, Tommy Dreamer made a name for himself in Paul Heyman's ECW. Even when the promotion's more talented superstars left for higher pay in other companies, Dreamer made it a point to stick with the promotion to the end, and then return to the promotion when it was revived under the WWE banner.

Despite the devotion, Tommy Dreamer was only able to call himself the ECW Champion once, for about thirty minutes. Booker T was able to capture the WCW World Heavyweight Championship on five separate occasions, and his reigns were considerably longer to boot. With that history in mind, Tommy did not deny the fact that the odds were considerably stacked against him.

Then again, those kind of odds were exactly what Tommy Dreamer had been hoping for.

Hearing his music play once again, Tommy slowly stood back up and cracked his neck. Even if he didn't win this next match, he could at guarantee that Booker T wouldn't soon forget tangling with the Innovator of Violence, and he damn sure wouldn't make the mistake of messing with his friends ever again. "This is it," Tommy muttered as he lifted his fist for the crowd and walked over to the edge of the ring and stare at the entrance ramp. "Time to finish this…"

_Can you dig it, suckaaaaa!?_

With the crowd promptly booing that now-superfluous question, Tommy's eyes narrowed as Booker T stepped back onto the entrance ramp with his wife Sharmell back at his side. There was something about beating someone up in front of his wife that Tommy found more than a little bit humiliating: after all, he had count of how many times he had the snot kicked out of him in front of who would be his future wife Beulah. That taboo, however, only made Tommy want to do it all the more to Booker. It wouldn't be enough to defeat him: he would have to humble the former King of the Ring if he wanted him to recognize just how important the heart and soul of ECW was.

"You shouldn't have come here, Thomas," Booker shouted to his opponent after his walk down the entrance ramp concluded with a brief stop at the edge of the ring. "Now I'm going to hurt you, just like I hurt that other ECW Original in this tournament. You'll be busted up so bad, your kids are going to scream when they see your face!"

"At least I'll be going down with honor, Booker," Tommy retorted as he turned his head to watch Booker walk up the three stairs that led to the squared circle and finally stepped in. "I can rest easy knowing that I got this far fighting my opponents fair and square, and not rely on outside interference!"

"What?" Booker's eyes widened in rage upon recognizing what his nemesis was implying. "I'm a six-time world champion, and you were champion for about a cup of coffee! Do you mean to tell me that you think that I couldn't have got here by myself!?" A cruel smirk formed on Booker's face as his head bobbled from side to side. "Oh man, I'm going to enjoy knocking your teeth down your throat, dog!"

"Don't let him get to your head, Booker," Sharmell added as Booker turned around and stood on the second turnbuckle to pose for the crowd that booed even louder. "You are better than him, so there's no need to stoop to his level. If you fight smart, then he shouldn't give you any trouble at all and you can mash his face in to your heart's content."

"Of course, you're right, my queen," Booker smiled at his wife before hopping back down and waving her away. "Take a seat at ringside so that you can witness first-hand my return to greatness!"

"You know, Booker, you're not impressing anybody by talking fancy like that," Tommy said with a smirk before walking over to his respective corner to make room for the announcer. "You'd come off as a lot more credible if you didn't use bombast…and instead used your wrestling ability." Before Booker could show Tommy just how much of his claims were hot air and "bombast," the entire arena became pitch black save for a single spotlight singling out the squared circle.

"Eight men came here this evening," the announcer began, his words quiet and solemn. "Eight men came here with the dream of capturing the Super J Cup for honor, glory, and recognition. Each of them fought valiantly, using their experiences from trials past to their advantage. Unfortunately, only two of them were able to make to this final bout…and only one of those two men will leave this arena with the object of their desire: the right to be called the winner of the Super J Cup tournament!"

"Standing to my left," the announcer lifted his free hand and pointed it in Booker's direction, "representing Total Nonstop Action, from Houston, Texas. He is a six-time World Heavyweight Champion, a four-time United States Champion, a fourteen-time World Tag Team Champion, a two-time Hardcore Champion, a former Intercontinental Champion, and the 2006 King of the Ring..." Pausing for dramatic effect as the long list of accolades came to a close, the announcer concluded his introduction, "…he stands at 1.91 meters and 115 kilograms: BOOKER T!!"

The sound of deafening boos once again made itself known in the arena as Booker smiled warmly and lifted his pinky for the crowd to see. He did not expect the crowd to understand his actions in the previous round: it was supposed to be a message for Dreamer, and not for them. However, Booker still felt obliged to acknowledge them, so he greeted them with one of his trademark poses.

"And standing to my right," the announcer waited for the boos to die down before spinning around so that his outstretched hand was now facing Tommy, "representing World Wrestling Entertainment, from Yonkers, New York! He is a three-time ECW World Tag-team champion, a fourteen-time Hardcore Champion, and a former ECW World Heavyweight Champion…" With a brief pause in between the relatively short list of accomplishments as opposed to the man that he read off earlier, the announcer took a deep breath before emphasizing one last fact about the man, "…and he is the heart and soul of Extreme Championship Wrestling, standing at 1.88 meters and 116 kilograms: TOMMY DREAMER!"

As opposed to the loud boos that Booker T received, Tommy was subject to an explosion of cheers as he outstretched his arms and let out a shout of defiance and intensity. Booker may have been stronger, faster, and more experienced, but the reason Tommy didn't mind fighting in those kind of odds was that he had something Booker didn't have: the support of these loyal fans. That was something that couldn't be taken away simply by not winning: the hearts of spectators that could not be taken away as long as the Innovator of Violence put his heart and soul into the match.

"Why am I so concerned about how gracefully I not win, though," Tommy asked himself as he and Booker stepped forward and prepared to listen the rules of the match, noticing the referee that had just slipped into the ring and made his way to the center of the squared circle. "I should be in this to win: do I doubt myself so much that I can't even worry about winning?"

"OK, you two," the referee began once Tommy and Booker were face-to-face, "there are no time limits this time: a winner will be decided by pinfall, submission, countout, knockout, or if I decide the match should be stopped. Do you two understand this?" Seeing Booker and Tommy silently nod their heads once, the referee took a few steps backwards so that he was no longer in between the two competitors. "Let us make this a clean fight: BEGIN!"

DING!

**Final match: Booker T (TNA) vs Tommy Dreamer (WWE)**

Even after the referee signaled for the bell, Tommy and Booker did not immediately engage into battle. Instead, they stood perfectly still, glaring deep into the eyes of their opponent and letting the contempt they had for one another fester. "Listen to my wife over there, cheering for me," Booker said with a smirk as he pointed out Sharmell's words of encouragement. "Where, Thomas, is your wife? Is she so ashamed to be married to a loser like you that she can't even take the time out of her schedule to watch you wrestle on this grand stage?"

"Shut up," Tommy hissed as he put up his fists. "Unlike you, I have kids that need to be taken care of. I would prefer that she would stay back home caring for them then to have her come all the way here just to watch me kick your ass all over this arena."

Booker responded to such a comment with a high-impact slap to the face that could be heard all across the Budokan Hall. To his surprise, however, Tommy shrugged off the blow and slowly turned his face back around at the former King of the Ring. "Those are the eyes I want to see," Booker said with a smile as Tommy reared back his fist in preparation for his retaliatory attack. "I'm going to enjoy this, and I know that'll you'll be digging it, too…sucka!"

Blocking the punch with his forearm, Booker retaliated with a swift elbow from his other hand that had about the same effect as the slap he had delivered earlier. Realizing that it was take more of those kind of attacks to really affect Dreamer, the former King of the Rng repeated his elbow strike technique several more times until the Innovator of Violence put his guard down.

Just when Booker was about to punch his foe in the face, Tommy delivered his own series of elbows to his opponent that came down upon the five-time WCW Champion's head like billy clubs. After the fifth elbow, Tommy's elbows involved into devastating punches that dazed Booker further. Seeing his opportunity for a better attack, Tommy ran backwards and ricocheted off the ropes to try and go for a running clothesline.

Booker woke up just in time to duck under the charging Tommy and deliver a swift back kick to his face once he was behind him. The impact of the attack rattled Tommy enough for Booker to place him in a side headlock and drive his knee into his opponent's face like a Muay Thai kickboxer. Quickly struggling before more damage could be done, Tommy broke out of the side headlock delivered a swift punch to Booker's face so he could place the Houston native into a headlock of his own: the prelude to his Dreamer DDT.

Realizing he was in serious trouble, Booker managed to break out of that predicament by punching Tommy in the stomach repeatedly and forcing him to let go. With Tommy kneeling over in pain, gripping his abdomen, Booker quickly ran for the ropes and ricocheted off of them to give him the momentum for his powerful Scissors Kick maneuver. Before he could deliver the early coup de grace, Tommy lifted his head and forced Booker to a screeching halt, and paid for his hesitance with a monstrous clothesline that knocked him down like a tree.

Tommy lifted his arm and prepared to further the assault with an elbow drop, but Booker quickly rolled out of the way and left the Innovator of Violence to fall hard on the mat. With full intention to do unto others and they would have done unto him, Booker jumped into the air and went for a leg drop, but Tommy dodged that with a quick roll back onto his feet while Booker back-rolled onto his own.

Rather than take a moment to appreciate how close they were to being delivered what could have been the final blow of a short match, the two men immediately began trading punches like a couple of heavyweight boxers slugging away at each other. At first, Booker was able to fend off Tommy, but the latter's fighting spirit started to win out as he clobbered his opponent all the way to the ropes.

Latching onto Booker's arm, Tommy spun around and flung his foe into the ropes on the opposite side of the ring and chased after him to take him down with another clothesline. Booker regained enough control of himself to grab onto the ropes and thus preventing himself from bouncing around the ring like the pinball. When Tommy tried to pull him away from the comfort of the ropes, Booker lifted his leg and kicked his adversary with retaliatory boot, and then charged after him to take him down with a running push.

While Booker may have been extremely confident, he was smart enough to know that a simple push would not be enough for any meaningful pin-cover. Lifting Tommy up by his head and placing him in a front headlock, Booker wrapped Tommy's arm around his head and lifted him into the air. Falling back down on his back, driving Tommy's back into the mat in the process with a standard suplex, Booker pushed himself off the ground with his foe still in his grasp.

Tommy hurriedly broke away from Booker's attempted follow-up suplex by rapidly punching away at his midsection, and then spun around the former King of the Ring so that he was standing behind him. Locking his fingers around Booker's waist, Tommy lifted his nemesis off the ground and slammed the back of his head and shoulders into the mat with a suplex of his own: a German suplex that he bridged for the first pin attempt of the match.

Booker escaped that predicament somewhere between one and two, and stood back up just as Dreamer was getting back onto his own feet. Wrapping his arm around Tommy's neck and arm farthest away from him, Booker prepared to drop his nemesis like a domino using his famed Book End technique. However, Tommy realized what was happening and used his closest arm to bash the side of Booker's head with his elbow and escape from that maneuver.

Realizing he had stunned Booker, Tommy lifted his adversary over his shoulders and prepared to drop him on his head with a Dreamer Driver. This time, it was Booker's veteran instincts that kicked in, and he returned the favor done to him seconds earlier by battling out the fireman's carry with swift elbows to Tommy's temples that forced him to allow Booker to get back on his feet.

Winding up behind Tommy's back, Booker ducked down and pulled the Innovator of Violence down to the mat for an attempted pin. Tommy kicked out at two, and Booker let out a growl of frustration as a result. When he stood back up and tried to slap Tommy in the face, Booker was brought back down to the mat via a roll-up pin attempt.

Rather than immediately kick out of the trap, Booker instead attempted to catch Tommy in his own roll-up, altering his body so that Tommy's shoulders were on the mat instead of his own. However, all this did was set up a chain of roll-up pin attempts alternating between both men to the point where the two of them rolled around the ring like a human beach ball. Bouncing off the ropes like a pinball before eventually coming to the stop, the two men slowly stood back up, clearly dazed from the bizarre trip they had just taken.

So disoriented was Booker that he was unable to distinguish his enemy from the referee, so when he heard the referee's voice telling them for the match to continue, the former King of the Ring's leg followed the voice and kicked the referee squarely in the jaw. The referee, who lacked the fortitude and conditioning of the two fighters, was floored by the kick like a boxer who had just received a knockout blow, and his movement ceased as a result.

When the two men finally regaining their bearings enough, Booker and Tommy stared at the fallen referee, wondering what they were going to do now when a pinfall could not be counted. It didn't take long for them to realize what was going to happen, as Sharmell quickly slid a metal folding chair into the ring and called out to her husband. "Booker! Hurry up and take it!"

With a cruel smile across his face, Booker took advantage of the massive opportunity given to him by a referee-less match and picked the chair off the mat. Quickly running towards Tommy before he could slide out of the ring and do the same, the five-time WCW Champion slammed his chair into the ECW Original's back and elicited a shout of pain from him. Booker pulled his adversary away from the edge of the ring and floored him with a second thunderous shot.

In a manner that echoed what he did to El Mesias upon his victory, Booker continued to beat down on the unarmed Tommy as his wife at ringside rummaged under the ring to find more goodies for her husband to wreak havoc with. Chairshot after chairshot, Booker brought down pain and suffering on the ECW Original who was so used to being attacked with foreign objects.

After the sixth chairshot, Booker turned his head to see that the referee was still out of it. However, he also saw that there were several other weapons for him to use thanks to his wife's quick thinking. Tossing his chair aside, Booker turned around and picked up a large link of steel chains. "Where do you think you're going, Thomas," Booker shouted as he saw Tommy crawl for the chair that he had tossed aside. "The fun is only beginning!"

Using the chains as a bludgeon, Booker once again struck Tommy's back and dropped him just before he could reach the chair. Once he did that, he stomped on his back several times and wrapped the chain around his arm. The weight of the chains would have hobbled an average person, but the many years of strength trained made it so that Booker could hold it in his arm without too much trouble.

Lifting Tommy back up by his free hand, Booker prepared to painfully send his nemesis into a knockout slumber with a chain-induced clothesline. Before he could do so, however, the Innovator of Violence suddenly began fighting back with thunderous left and right-handed punches. Just as he was about to run for the mess of weapons that Sharmell was tossing into the ring, Booker stopped him by wrapping his chained around his neck and far arm. With the full weight of the chains falling across Tommy's neck and chest, Booker forced his foe to let out a roar of pain as he delivered an enhanced Book End technique.

With the weight of the chains becoming too much for him, Booker quickly unwrapped them from his arm and dropped them across Tommy's back before kicking them out of the ring so they could not be used against him. "Let's see if I can find something lighter," Booker muttered as he turned around to find something else he could use. "He can't have much more fight in him after that Book End!"

As he rummaged through the pile of objects that Sharmell had supplied him with, Tommy gripped his damage body and writhed on the mat. Here we was, having the tar beat out of him in this foreign land with weapons that he himself had used on several occasions. Not only was it ironic, it was downright embarrassing to be outshone in "hardcore" action by someone else.

Then again, Booker was a former Hardcore champion just like he was: losing to him in the way he was losing would not have been overly embarrassing.

Tommy's thoughts of defeat were quickly erased by the sound of two women arguing in the audience: one of the voices was of someone that he knew quite well. Turning his body despite the pain that it caused him, Tommy looked and saw Sharmell arguing with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. "No way," Tommy muttered as he watched the woman argue with Booker's wife. "I must be seeing things from the ass-kicking I'm getting…"

However, he quickly realized it was not an illusion, as the woman jumped over the barricade and tackled Sharmell. Mounting the woman and lifting her arm, the woman brought her fists down on Booker's wife like a drunkard fighting over the last beer. After a few seconds of that, the woman lifted Sharmell back up and slammed her head into the ground with a powerful DDT. There was no longer any doubt: Beulah Dreamer had come to Tokyo to watch her husband kick butt. "All this time," Tommy whispered as he willed his damaged body into motion, "I was being beat up in front of my wife!?"

"What do you think you're doing, witch?" Booker shouted as he noticed his wife sprawled out on the ground with Beulah standing over her. Distracted by what was going on outside the ring, the former King of the Ring did not notice Tommy stand erect once again and pick up the chair that had been used to hurt him earlier. "You think you can get away with messing with my wife? Come over here so I can slap some sense into you!"

Before Booker could fully step out of the ring, Tommy tapped him on his shoulder. Turning his head around, Booker was greeted with the sight of a metal chair approaching his face just a split-second before it crashed into the nose. Stunned from the attack with one leg still in the ring, Booker fell back onto the mat upon being struck once again with the chair: a t-ball-like shot from Tommy that elicited a loud "ooooh" from the crowd.

Booker was now in a position where very few men wished to be in: a ring full of weapons, with the Innovator of Violence on the offensive. Throwing the chair aside from the time being, Tommy leaned down and picked up a weapon he was more familiar with: a fresh kendo stick that he lifted in the air for the crowd to see. Realizing he was in trouble, Booker reached out and picked one of his own before slowly getting back onto his feet and rubbing his head.

Once both men were fully standing, Tommy and Booker let out a ferocious shout and charged at their nemesis with a kendo stick in their hands. The two striking weapons clashed together, and the two competitors pushed against one another trying to get leverage. From an observer's point of view, it was as if they were reenacting an epic medieval duel with kendo sticks acting as swords.

After a good fifteen seconds of being deadlocked, Tommy spun his kendo stick around and disarmed Booker by pulling his weapon away from him. With nothing to keep him from being harmed, Tommy broke the kendo stick across Booker's head and sent him stumbling towards the ropes. Outstretching his arms with the splintered stick still in his hand, Tommy let out a roar of rage and defiance: a gesture the crowd returned with an explosion of cheers.

With Booker staggering back towards him, the Innovator of Violence quickly turned his around and noticed that the steel chains were directly behind him. Turning back around and lifting Booker off the ground, Tommy spun around once again and slammed Booker back-first into the chains with a devastating spine-buster, eliciting a roar of agony from the man that had only moments ago been enjoying the luxury of being the only armed man in the ring.

With the referee still not moving, Tommy quickly stood back up and ran for the nearest turnbuckle. Rapidly ascending it until he reached the top, the ECW Original turned his head and saw his wife standing at ringside. "This one's for you, honey," Tommy said with a smirk before preparing to take flight. "Here I go!"

Plunging towards Booker with no regard for his own well-being, Tommy was about to crash into his adversary with a diving splash when Booker suddenly turned to his left and inadvertently avoided the splash. Tommy instead crashed sternum first into the chains that Booker had been lying under, and it was once again Dreamer's turn to scream. Gripping his midsection while kicking his legs wildly in some vain attempt to alleviate the pain, Tommy did not notice Booker stumble back onto his feet and scramble for the nearest turnbuckle.

Just as he reached the top in preparation for his Houston Hangover maneuver, Booker turned his head to see Beulah climb up to the edge of the ring and approach him. "Yeah, you've got a real nice view now," Booker said with a smirk as he pointed to the fallen Tommy. "Since you took the time to hurt my spouse, it's only fitting that I get to do the same to yours!"

Rather than reply with words, Beulah instead rocked the rope that was supporting Booker's left leg to and fro and disrupted Booker's balance. Falling groin-first onto the hard turnbuckle, Booker let out a howl of agony as Beulah walked closer to him. Just as she reared back in preparation for a slap, Booker's hand lashed out and grabbed her neck. "You think that's funny?" Booker said with a growl as he lifted back his other hand in preparation for a punch. "I normally don't hit women, but I'll make an exception if you're gonna cost me my match!"

Before the man-on-woman violence could commence, Booker received a thunderous chair shot to the head from Tommy, who took advantage of his wife's shenanigans during the ordeal with Booker. "Get your hands off my wife," Tommy screamed before tipping Booker over with a second chairshot. "Never _ever _touch my wife!"

With Booker hanging upside down like a slab of beef at a butcher's shop, Tommy placed the chair in front of Booker's head and hobbled over to the opposite turnbuckle. With one hand gripping his body and the other balled into a fist raised into the air, the Innovator of Violence invoked the heart and soul of his beloved organization one last time. The target his ire had not only insulted and damaged him, but he had attacked his friends and family. There would be no mercy as he, Beulah, and the crowd belted out the initials of the promotion that got him to where he was that night.

"E…C…W!"

With the spirit of Extreme Championship Wrestling within him fully awakened, Tommy charged towards the upside-down Booker with violent intent burning in his eyes. Once he was close enough, Tommy jumped a few inches off the ground and drove both his feet into the chair in front of Booker's face, therefore driving the chair into his adversary as a result. Like a cut-down tree, Booker timbered over onto his belly while Tommy stood back up and tried to think of something else to do.

Just as he did so, the referee that had been unconscious throughout the entire ordeal finally came to and noticed the mess of foreign objects in the ring. Remembering his duty to call the match, the referee quickly stood back up and ran over to Tommy. "What have you two been doing?" He shouted as Tommy pulled the now-bloodied Booker over the center of the ring. "Any more of this and you'll be disqualified!"

Nodding his head in acknowledgement of the referee's verdict, Tommy turned Booker over his back and went for a pinfall. Whether it was on sheer instinct or intentional resistance, Booker managed to get his shoulder up between two and three and therefore save himself from losing the match. For all of his faults, Booker was every bit as good as he said he was, and his longevity was a reminder of that.

Slowly lifting Booker up, Tommy placed Booker in a front headlock and prepared to drop him on his head with another Dreamer DDT. However, Booker suddenly sprang back to life and powered out of the headlock with a quick shove. With Tommy surprised by the sudden turn of events, Booker kicked Tommy in his midsection and caused him to buckle over. Capitalizing on the kick, the five-time WCW Champion placed Tommy in a front headlock and drove the top of his head into the mat with a Dreamer DDT of his own.

"That's it," Booker shouted as he rolled Dreamer onto his back and covered him for a pin. "No one is going to be getting out of that: one, two, thr-NO!"

The former King of the Ring voiced his frustration as Dreamer kicked out of the pin and let out a groan of pain. Lifting Dreamer back up by his head, Booker prepared to deliver a second DDT to his nemesis. However, Tommy was not licked yet: fighting out of the headlock, the Innovator of Violence wrapped his arm around Booker's neck and armpit and drove him into the mat with Booker's own technique: the Book End.

With this exchange of each other's finishing maneuvers, Tommy quickly covered the moaning Booker and bobbed his head to the referee's count. One. Two. Thr-kick out! Rolling over onto his own back trying to catch his breath, the Innovator of Violence started to wonder if anything he had in his arsenal would be enough to take him down. After a few seconds of motionlessness, the two men stumbled back onto their feet and stared at one enough through groggy eyes.

The two men lifted their fists and punched each other simultaneously, stunning each other and causing them to teeter dangerously. Tommy would be the next person to throw a punch, striking Booker in the jaw and causing him to stumble backwards. The five-time WCW champion retaliated by punching Tommy back and letting him stumble backwards for a bit. The exchange of blows went back and forth, with the crowd cheering whenever Dreamer landed a hit and booing whenever Booker landed a hit.

After seven repetitions, Dreamer looked up and saw that Booker was still bleeding from his forehead, and an idea formulated inside his head. Rather than try to block Booker's oncoming punch, Dreamer instead turned around and used his upper body strength to lift the man over his head in a reverse crucifix position. With his back and midsection already damaged from when Booker wailed on him with foreign objects, Tommy grit his teeth in pain as he struggled to keep his foe over his head.

However, Tommy made sure to keep Booker elevated, feeling the drops of blood coming from Booker's forehead splatter onto the back of his neck. "Here it comes," Tommy shouted before executing his last-ditch technique, "a move that I haven't used in ages!" Altering his hold by grabbing onto Booker's head, the two men fell flat onto the mat with Booker's face being driven into the canvas as a result.

"TommyHawk," Dreamer heard the ringside announcer exclaim an instant before the crowd roared its approval of his rarely-used technique. "TOMMYHAWK!"

Although it was painful to do so, Tommy slowly rolled Booker over onto his back and went for a pinfall. The referee, quick to react despite being unconscious for a portion to the match, rhythmically counted the three seconds necessary for the pin, with the crowd counting along with him.

"ONE! TWO! THREE!!"

"The winner by pinfall, at 18:26, and the NEW Super J Cup winner: TOMMY DREAMER!"

Rolling over onto his back, Tommy stared into the bright lights of the arena as the crowd got off of their feet and let out a loud and thunderous cheer while his music played over the sound system. "I did it," he mumbled as he continued to stare at the ceiling, exhausted from the long and grueling battle he had just gone through. "I actually won …"

"Tommy!"

Lifted his head upon hearing the familiar voice, Tommy slowly sat back up and outstretched his arms as his wife Beulah slid back into the rang and embraced her husband. "I'm so proud of you, Tommy," she said with a smile as she helped Tommy back onto his feet. "You showed that asshole that our family doesn't back down from a fight."

"I'm flattered that you took time out of your schedule to come," Tommy said with a thin smile as he looked to the area of the stands were Beulah had emerged from. "Where are the girls?" Beulah pointed to the front row, and Tommy raised an eyebrow at what he saw: his twin daughters Kimberly and Brianna, sitting next to his old colleague Rob Van Dam. "Even he came along, too," Dreamer commented with a smirk. "I guess I should have figured he'd come to watch me and his old tag partner beat the tar out of each other."

Turning his head to see Sharmell slide into the ring and frantically try to awaken her bloody husband from her knockout slumber, Tommy watched as Booker slowly sat back up and rubbed his bloody forehead in pain. "Damn," Booker said to himself as he looked at the blood on his hand and carefully got back onto his feet before gripping his back in pain. "He really did a number on me."

Tommy let go of his wife as he walked towards the six-time world champion. Turning his head to see his adversary come towards him, Booker let out a defeated sigh. "Man, I came here expecting you to be a washed-up nothing looking to play with the big boys once again." Outstretching his hand, Booker conceded defeat. "I admit: I was wrong about you, dog. You've got some real guts."

Taking a deep breath and swallowing his pride, Tommy grabbed onto Booker's hand and shaked it in the name of good sportsmanship. "You're not too bad yourself, Booker," Tommy said with a smile before turning his head to see RVD help his childen get over the barricade and walk into the ring where they could meet their father. "If you ever get bored in TNA, ECW is always having its doors open."

"Heh, nice try," Booker said with a smirk before letting go of his hand. "If WWE ever throws you away, TNA will be there to pick you back up: I can promise you that."

Kneeling down to embrace his oncoming daughters, Tommy smiled as he listened to the Budokan Hall chant the name of the organization where he met his wife, gained national exposure, and ultimately allowed him to compete in the glorious Super J Cup. As RVD came into the ring and joined in on the chant, Beulah and even Booker and Sharmell added to the chorus to make Tommy's smile even wider.

"ECW! ECW! ECW! ECW!"


	10. Parting words

I wasn't sure how this story was going to turn out when I first began writing it. For the past three years, I have mostly written stories for the Tekken genre, so venturing into the wrestling fanfic world was a very new experience for me. However, I felt that I had a story to tell, and I was fortunate enough to see it through to the end.

Just a few things that you should know about me: my all-time favorite wrestler is the late Brian Adams, my current favorite wrestler is MVP, and I am also a proud Miz, Mike Knox, and Great Khali mark despite how all three of them had an internet stigma upon them. When it comes to favorites, I don't really care who the flavor of the week is: as long as I find them entertaining, it's all good to me.

Now, let's take a look at the wrestlers who DID make it to the tournament.

**Chris Masters** is right now doing independent bookings: I have no doubt in my mind that sooner or later he'll find his way to a bigger promotion like NJPW, but I sure do miss having him on my TV!

**El Mesias **is still a main eventer in AAA. I personally thought he looked ridiculous in his purple speedo(even if purple happens to be my favorite color), but hey: there was something cool about those contact lenses he wore!

**Yoshihiro Tajiri **is still with HUSTLE, though he still keeps in touch with WWE in regards to a possible return. Tajiri is another great wrestler and performer who would no doubt pick up right back where he left off in capturing the hearts of WWE fans. Triple H put him over huge before booking dropped the ball with him, and Trips has the stigma of utilizing the "Backstage Powers" magic card.

**BxB Hulk **is still with Dragon Gate, and I imagine that's where he'll stay for the time being. When this fic first began being formed in my head, this guy was going to be the star of it. It would center around his signing to ECW, where his naivete would be taken advantage of by Mark Henry, who was looking for an associate. When he finally realized he was being used by Henry, it would culminate into a match. Even though Hulk would lose, he would have won something very few had earned: Henry's respect. However, Dreamer eventually won out, so instead he became the first guy to fall under the Innovator of Violence!

The last time I checked out Ring of Honor, **Nigel McGuinness** was still their champion. I am a huge fan of his stiff style, and how he has mastered the lariat to a point where Stan Hansen would tip his hat to him. Hopefully he finds his way to mainstream television, as well.

**Charlie Haas **is right now in the midst of a midcard push on RAW where he imitates other wrestlers. I'm not sure how far this will take him in the long run, but at least he's on TV again and not just lying down for other wrestlers. The fact that people are finally chanting his name is WAY more than what he had going for him a year ago!

**Booker T **is still in the spotlight with TNA, though he seems to have fallen victim to Vince Russo's ludicrous gimmick ideas. I would GLADLY take the King Booker gimmick over what he has going for him now, with that ridiculous African accent.

**Tommy Dreamer **is still bumping and selling like a champ, doing anything from getting decent midcard wins to flat out being squashed by whoever he is scheduled to lie down for. I'm not going to hold my breath and wait for him to get that ECW title: after all, he once stated out-of-character that he would have preferred going his whole career without winning titles. There's no question that he deserves it, though!

Well, that's all I have for you for now! If you would like to talk wrestling with me further, my AIM is Psychoblue9. Thank you very much for bearing with me, and I hope to see you next time!


End file.
